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chaoticklesblog · 3 months

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Maybe You Just Need More Convincing

Adam gets his everloving shit wrecked from some of the Hotel Staff in order to convince him sinners really can be redeemed. Charlie also recruits Lucifer to give them a hand, in more ways than one.

Warnings for foul language, some violence, suggestive humor (nothing extreme, just some totally in chatacter comments), my shitty grammar/punctuation, and lots of fluff/tickles. I hope you enjoy!! :3

It was no secret that Adam was heaven (and hell's) resident douchebag. He was stuck up, conceited, and completely self-centered. He had no real intentions of giving Hazbin Hotel a shot. He hadn't even shown up in person to the meeting in which was arranged originally between himself and Lucifer. And after Lucifer's daughter had stood in Lucifer's place at that meeting, well, Adam just couldn't take anything the princess of hell had to say seriously.

Charlie Morningstar was less than pleased to discover that the angels were going to be on a new six month extermination schedule. How was that even fair? It was so frustrating that Adam had flat out refused to listen to reason or even take Charlie's pitch of redemption even halfway seriously. He spent most of their allotted meeting time making sexist comments, talking about himself, interrupting anything Charlie had to say, and eating his pile of ribs in the most obnoxious and rude way possible.

Charlie had to think of a way to truly convince the head angel to call off the extermination and redeem those who were taking their path to redemption through the hotel seriously. But no song, no dramatic speech, no amount of begging or pleading could convince the dickhead that her Hotel would ever actually work.

"How could we actually convince heavens top angel to take our Hotel seriously?" Charlie had asked the staff and two meager residents in a meeting that was originally to be comprised of forgiveness role-playing and trust exercises. The change of routine was much welcomed by all, though they'd never explicitly tell Charlie that.

"We could just kill him?" Alastor suggested, his grin broadening and eyes darkening at the thought.

"That wouldn't be a good way to exemplify our goals or show redemption," Charlie paused. "We just need to figure out a weakness, you know, find something that we could use against him! Does anyone have any... less violent ideas?" She shoots Alastor a sympathetic smile.

"Vicious blackmail?" Angel suggests casually. He has the day off, and while he'd rather be scoring drugs or drinking at the bar with Husk's sole company, this discussion is far better than trust exercises.

"That's a less violent alternative," Charlie comments, "But still shady..."

"Listen toots, we aren't gonna convince Adam or anyone else to take us seriously if we don't play at least a little bit dirty," Angel tucks his upper set of arms behind his neck in a bored gesture.

"Angel has a point, Charlie. They wouldn't listen to reason, and the angels are notorious for not playing fair. I know you're trying to find a way that isn't violent or unconventional, but we might not have much of a choice. Especially if we want to defend our people," Vaggie steps closer to Charlie to embrace her briefly.

"Blackmail... nonviolent... unconventional... playing dirty..." Charlie thinks briefly about the options that fall under all these categories, and suddenly her face breaks out into a wide and evil grin. "I know exactly what we have to do! And I know just the person to call to ensure this plan will work. But I'm 99.9% positive, and it'll be foolproof!"

••••

"You want to what?" Lucifer's voice raises an octave. Unsure of what exactly this favor was his nearly estranged daughter had asked of him, he couldn't tell her no. But he hadn't known this was the specific favor in question until he arrived to the hotel. And Charlie had intentionally left out a few key details.

Had Lucifer known his precious daughter and hotel patronage had planned to exploit his ticklishness, he would've very well declined and spent the afternoon with his vast collection of rubber ducks.

"But that's only part of the favor. We also need you to arrange a meeting with Adam face to face. But first we need to know if this plan will work," Charlie's voice at the end was near pleading. Lucifer almost felt sorry for her, but what did this have to do with tickling him?

"I can arrange him to meet you all in person," Lucifer spoke slowly' "but what the hell does this have to do with tickling me?" His voice rose to a strangled octave, indicating that he was indeed ticklish.

"Mr. Morningstar, erm, your majesty, Charlie pointed out that you and Adam have similar angelic traits... so we figured that if you were... also inflicted the same weakness... We might actually have a shot at bringing that Adam prick down a few pegs," Vaggie nervously stepped forward to shake her girlfriends father's hand.

"I'd like to peg him," Angel murmered, earning a few looks of utter horror he quickly added "Adam, I meant Adam! Besides haven't you heard of hate fucking?" Angel grumbled defensively.

Lucifer turned back to Charlie.

"So you're asking me... if you can find various sensitive spots on my body... to use on Adam... in hopes of getting him to call of the next extermination?"

Charlie nodded enthusiastically and damnnit, Lucifer just couldn't say no to her.

"Okay, okay, okay... But a few things first... I'm only letting you do this as part of that favor. If anyone here ever tries to tickle me outside this one stand alone instance, consider yourselves to be absolutely wrecked. As ticklish as I am, I will ensure to pay you back in kind tenfold if any of you pull a stunt like this outside this small window of time. I'm only doing this because it would be nice to knock that dickhead down a few pegs."

His threat clung to the air a few moments. The king of hell was known to be ruthless, and he was a force to be reckoned with.

"Thanks dad!" Charlie reached over to hug him. Something the two hadn't done in such a long time but their embrace felt familiar. Normal even.

"A couple of other points..." Lucifer told the group, "an angels wings are the most sensitive, pretty much everywhere. Between the feathers, shoulder blades, wing pits, I mean, it's lethal... Lilith used to..."

Lucifer couldn't help but turn a blushy pink color at the mention of his former wife. He hadn't been properly tickled since... well, it had been quite some time. Lilith wasn't a stranger to tickling Lucifer to tears, but she was the only one to ever indulge in his weakness. He was never tickled by anyone other than Lilith. And cetainly not by this many people. Charlie had grown up with witnessing Lillith tickle him to pieces. Faint memories of her father squealing, shrieking, and downright begging Lilith not to tickle him while laughing helplessly. But Lilith had always been able to easily overpower her much smaller husband. But Charlie also knew how Lucifer could hold his own. She knew what a fierce tickle monster he could be in her own experiences and knew by watching her parents in her much younger days that Lucifer almost always sought revenge.

Lucifer kept reminding himself that this was necessary. He knew this was to help his people of hell, his daughter even, but being demon royalty and exposing his most innate physical weakness and allowing others to take advantage of it was downright terrifying. It had been bad then, but now? Lucifer let out an involuntary shudder.

"For Adam, specifically, I'm led to believe that he would have another weak point aside from his wings. But if his wings are anything like mine, then you shouldn't have much trouble!"

Lucifer tried his hardest to ignore the shit eating grins forming on the faces of both Angel Dust and Alastor. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. But he remembered his favor to Charlie, and all the memories of his past tickling experiences and thought that maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

"Please, do tell us of any other weak spots you think the angel will have, your royal higness!" Alastor chimes in, eager to have something to use against both Adam and Lucifer.

"God removed one of Adam's ribs to create his new wife. And being touched by that amount of power would absolutely cause that spot to be more sensitive... It's basically a given."

"So torture the guys wings and ribs, got it," Angel smirked.

"Torture Adam's wings and ribs," Lucifer clarified "you motherfuckers better go easy with me." Lucifer couldn't help but back away nervously from the group. Unfortunately for him, there was only so far he could back up before his back collided with the wall of the Hotel lobby adjacent to where Husk was sleeping at the bar. At least Nifffty and Husk weren't involved in this scheme.

"Anything else we need to know before we tickle you to death?" Charlie asked almost sympathetically as Vaggie, Angel, and Alastor closed in on the king of hell.

"Sixty seconds. Do NOT exceed sixty seconds." Four against one was definitely not a fair match.

Lucifer wasn't given time to think while the group circled around him. Shit. Fuck. Shit.

"Sixty seconds," Charlie clarified, "starting in 3..."

Why the fuck did he agree to this again?

"2..."

This really had better work on Adam. Otherwise Lucifer knew he'd be totally fucked around Alastor, Angel and Vaggie, who all seemed to take pure delight in discovering the king of hell was ridiculously ticklish. Why did Charlie have to tell them?

"1..."

Shit. And he was lost in helpless, screech filled laughter. Lucifer had curled into a ball as ten arms and countless tickling fingers dug into almost all his ticklish spots.

"WHAHAHAHAHHAHT THE FUHUHUHCK AHHAH STAHAP!" Lucifer pleaded, knowing it hadn't even been 10 seconds yet.

Alastor had taken the liberty in casting a temporary paralysis spell on Lucifer so he couldn't even protect his worst spots. He had taken this opportunity to also tickle the smaller demon's shoulder blades which shook helplessly as his six magnificent wings unfurled.

Angel and Vaggie started to explore his wings and Lucifer had severely underestimated just how much it would tickle.

"OohoHAHAhaA, IHIHIHT tiHIHihihCkles HAhahHa soHo mUhUHUHUCH AHAhaHa!" Lucifer squealed as Angel and Vaggie had tickled the soft skin beneath his feathers, Angel's extra set of hands had made quick work of his wing pits which caused his laughter to shoot up an octave.

"That's kind of the point, short king," Alastor teased as he had switched to taser his sides while Charlie had been scribbling at his ribs, grinning madly as her plan had seemed now that it could be executed without fail.

Lucifer was in absolute tickle hell. Literally. The sensation of Vaggie and Angel mercilessly tickling his wings, scritching the skin beneath his feathers, digging into the sensitive wing pits and occasionally poking and scratching at his shoulder blades combined with Alastor squeezing his sides and Charlie torturing his ribs had nearly caused Lucifer to break. He couldn't move to protect his tickle spots. And all he could do was laugh and shriek and hope the ticklish assault would end whenever the alloted minute was up.

"I didn't think you'd still be this ticklish!" Charlie cooed.

"OkAYHAHAHhahAH! SEhehee? IHAH- I TOHOAHAHHOLD YOUHOO AHAHhahah it WOHOULD WORK!" Lucifer cackled.

He never had four people tickle him at once before. It was the most ticklish he'd ever felt in his entire life. It wasn't fair to have all his tickle spots exploited at once!

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of cackling, the minute had passed and as promised, Charlie called off the experimental tickle attack. Alastor reversed the spell and Lucifer had crumpled to a giggling panting mess on the floor, overstimulated from all the tickles and trying to rub away the residual ghost tickles.

"So was that 60 seconds of getting your everloving shit rocked, short king?" Angel grins down at Lucifer.

"Seriously, fuck you guys," Lucifer giggles.

"Think this will actually work on Adam?" Vaggie turns to Charlie beaming as she helps her one day father-in-law off the floor.

"It has to!" Charlie says with pure confidence.

"Thanks, dad, for helping us prove our theory to be true. Adam won't stand a chance against us." Charlie hugs the still giggling Lucifer around the middle.

"I don't mind seeing that loser taken down, I'm... glad I could help, but seriously, that was awful," Lucifer says, hugging Charlie back.

"I'll arrange for Adam to arrive here tomorrow and then you can convince him to listen."

●●●●

Adam was irritated. Sure, the king of hell was able to order him to meet in person to discuss business matters, but that didn't mean he wanted to. If it were up to him, he would meet through holographic magic, but Lucifer had strictly forbidden it for this meeting only.

So here he was, at the hotel's doorstep, expecting to meet with Lucifer and returning to report back to heaven as soon as this mandated meeting was concluded.

What Adam wasn't expecting, however, was to be met with Alastor, opening the door positively beaming at him.

"Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel. Why, you must be Adam, we've all been dying to meet you! Well, if it weren't for the fact that we are already dead!" Alastor chuckles at his own joke. "Do come in!"

"Who in the fuck are you?" Adam glares at Alastor, wary of the taller demon.

"Why, I'm Alastor, the infamous radio demon of hell and manager of this fine establishment! Allow me to show you around hell's only rehabilitation center for lost souls!" Alastor grabs Adam's wrist and drags him through the hotel lobby toward the bar.

"Allow Husker to pour you a drink, on the house!" Alastor grins at Adam's sheer befuddlement. He was out of his element here in unfamiliar territory. Husk pours an unmarked liquid into a glass and slides it toward Adam.

"...uh, thanks... but when am I supposed to meet with Lucifer?" Adam looks at the drink as if it were poisonous.

"Don't be a silly! We would never think to poison the one and only angel who had the power to permanently end the exterminations of hell's residents!" Alastor laughs as if he could read Adam's mind.

"And Lucifer will be here soon, but we have other eager candidates to speak with you before hand!" Alastor continues smirking as Adam slowly begins to drink from the glass.

That's when Adam turns and notices Vaggie, Charlie, and Angel behind him, a bit too close for comfort. And suddenly, Adam finds himself unable to move, thanks to Alastor's demonic power and curse of immobility.

"What the actual FUCK, Charlie?" Adam tries to writhe away but is unable to do so.

"Adam, thank you for joining us today! We thought it might take a team approach to convince you that our redemption center deserves a chance to save sinners from extermination," Charlie smiles.

"I already fuckin told you that hell is eternal damnation, I'm not changing my mind and I think that your hotel is a worthless waste of time!" Adam spits angrily.

"Maybe you just need more convincing..." Angel smiles, excited to be able to have one over on this pompous angel prick.

"I said Noho!" Adam let's out a startled Huff as Charlie prods his side near the bottom of his ribs.

"I don't think you're in a position to refuse our quite reasonable requests." Alastor chuckles.

"What are you all playing at?" Adam sneers, albeit nervously.

"Well, we can't harm you, obviously, but we found a rather unconventional method of torture to utilize to convince you to take us seriously," Charlie explains.

Torture? Adam now realized three things.

One: he was outnumbered.

Two: he was completely immobile and couldn't move from whatever power was keeping him trapped.

Three: The poke Charlie had administered to his side had been... well... ticklish... Adam had started to realize that they intended to tickle him. They couldn't. They wouldn't, actually, could they?

"No, no, Charlie. I demand you to release me!"

"Maybe this will help convince you not be such a pompous asshole," Charlie smirked down at Adam evilly.

And suddenly, Adam felt her dig all ten fingers into one of his most ticklish spots, his ribs. And he felt Angel and Alastor tickle into his sensitive shoulder blades, causing his wings to expand.

"Nohohoho, what thehahahhah FUHAHAHAHAHUCK?" Adam squeals.

Vaggie had hopped in to help Charlie tickle his stomach and hips and Adam was in absolute ticklish hell.

"Fuhahahahuck YOHOU GUYS, AHAHAHAHAHA!" Adam can't even squirm away from their torturous fingers. His laughter shoots up an octave as Alastor and Angel tickle into his wings.

No tickle spot was spared on the guy and he couldn't even move or writhe away from the ticklish touches. It wasn't fair!

"Think you'll give the hotel another shot?" Charlie asked, digging sharply into Adam's lower rib cage. Adam's laughter doubled.

"NohohahaHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

"Oh shit, Adam! It feels Ike one of your ribs are missing!! Maybe we should count them to see how many are there!" Charlie teases, enjoying how much power they have over Adam.

"FUHUHUCK OHOHOHOHOOFF!" Adam screeches as Charlie proceeds to count and recounts his ribs.

"We've got all day, tough guy!" Angel digs roughly into Adam's wing pits as Alastor digs his claws beneath the feathers to torture the delicate skin beneath. How long had it been? Fifteen minutes? Twenty? Adam quickly realizes that he is utterly fucked.

Adam's laughter goes silent. It's not fair to have them all tickle him to pieces. He couldn't even fight back or try to get away. All he could do was lie there and take it. His eyes begin to water as they continue their ticklish onslaught. And Adam just can't handle much more.

"Think we can renegotiate now?" Charlie asks and Adam quickly nods despite his silent hysteria.

"Okay, I think he's had enough," Charlie slows her hands and pulls them away, and the rest of the group follows suit.

Adam lays there panting giggling, still feeling the ticklish assault through his nervous system.

"I hope you won't forget this, as we are easily able to convince you to do exactly as we want," Alastor chuckles darkly, removing the immobility curse.

"Seriously, fuck you guys," Adam flips them off as he uses his magic to dissappear. His tough guy facade had been broken.

Adam would call off the next extermination, out of fear of what would happen to him if he continued to refuse. Now, his greatest enemies knew of his ticklish weakness. He would never be able to live it down. And maybe a part of him didn't want to.

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dysfunctionalmaki · 4 months

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Say My Name

Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Chapter 05/?

Summary: You work all around at the local country club, to your advantage you flirted and used your beauty to get what you want, though with this certain woman your own way can't seem to work.

Warning: This work contains smut and foul language, minors DNI!!

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You pace round and round the living room and Yelena couldn't help but get distracted as you walked past her for the nth time. “God! Can you sit your ass down?” your friend grumbled considering she couldn't enjoy her TV show when you'd be there covering the screen from time to time. “How can I sit my ass down exactly? I pissed off Diana!” you stopped exactly right at the center of the television and the blonde which made her groan out of frustration. “See? Play stupid games and win stupid prizes.” looking at her with your brows furrowed. “I didn't know Wanda was going to be there!” you say and Yelena was honestly enjoying your little meltdown.

“Okay, from what you've told me about Diana when you met her, she's nice, rich, and so pretty that you think she may be a goddess.” Yelena just decided to turn off the television knowing it's useless to even attempt to focus and watch her show. “And she works at Wayne Enterprises, knows our boss Tony Stark… and also knows Wanda and her husband since both companies somehow work together?” you say and she couldn't help but laugh softly. “So you're screwed?” she asked and you decided to pace around, taking a seat next to your friend on the couch. “Yes, I'm screwed. Like, when she saw me and Wanda talking at the party… she wrapped her arm around me and then pulled me close! Like she's mine type of close.” your friend tilted her head at what you're saying. “Okay, that's kind of a stretch.” Yelena says.

“No! It isn't… is it? Am I reading too much into it?” Now, you're doubting what you're trying to say, though you can't help but groan. Your stomach's doing cartwheels, you can't help but imagine that the next time you step foot outside the apartment you'll be shoved in a white van… well, you happened to fuck around with someone who's crazy rich and now you're worried, which is understandable and that's why you're also shitting bricks. “Do you want me to text your redhead girlfriend?” Yelena teased, you instantly looked at her and shook your head. “No! I'd look totally uncool if you did that.” you exclaimed and Belova widened her eyes at what you just said. “Y/N, no one thinks you're cool.” you place a hand on your chest taking offense to what she said. “The one you should be talking about this is Wanda, after all, you two were the ones who fooled around.”

“I’m sure she can do something about it and if you talk to her about it then voilà she helps you, I mean it's pretty obvious that you two aren't going to be a one-time thing.” Yelena added, which reminded you of another thing you can't help but stress about the whole situation. “Everything’s about Wanda, it's Wanda here and Wanda there.” you let out while your friend couldn't help but agree with what you're saying. “I think you like her.” The blonde commented and you let out a sigh. “Nope, no can do, nuh-uh.” you are quick to deny what your friend says and she chuckled as if you're acting like a child. “Nuh-uh? What are you, a five-year-old?” You roll your eyes at her comment once more. “I've slept with many people, Wanda isn't anything special.” you stated yet a hint of doubt went through your head.

“I've hung out with Wanda a couple of times before, she's easy-going, can be mean at times, but she's charming in her ways... easy on the eyes too.” Yelena went to list down some of the redhead's characteristics then she looked at you once more. “The downside is she's married, not just any man but a man who works close to Stark, who also happens to be our boss, Y/N." she reminded you then the queasy feeling came back to your guts once more. “Can you stop reminding me of that? I'm still worrying about what Diana may do and there's me messing around with Wanda.” The blonde reached for her phone and without your idea she just decided to message Maximoff, she's a good friend honestly but she'll burst her eardrums if she listens to you go on and on about your worries, and you can't blame her for that.

This time you're in your bedroom trying to sleep off the uneasiness you're feeling, your face buried against the soft pillow, you were a total mess and this wouldn't have happened if you had taken control of yourself and didn't have a whole make out session with the older woman back at the party. An hour went by and honestly, you were just staring at the ceiling as much as you attempted to stop thinking about a certain redhead, she wouldn't stop running in your mind. You've never been kissed the way she kissed you, how she easily found ways to get you weak in the knees and tremble before her, Wanda knew how to please you when she had you cornered at the sink that night.

You hear a knock on your door, doing your best to get your ass off the bed. You knew this was just Yelena probably needing something from you, fixing the shirt you were wearing, adjusting the volleyball shorts that you have had since high school. The moment you opened the door, and those green eyes instantly met with yours, you couldn't help but be surprised and looked behind the older woman then Yelena was there with a smug smile on her face, mouthing “You’re welcome” rolling your eyes at her then you went to look at the redhead in front of you. “Hi- What are you doing here?” You ask confusingly while the woman before you lets herself in your bedroom. “Yelena told me you're freaking out about Prince and she can't spend another second listening to that.” Wanda explained. “Well, are you really worrying about Prince?” she asked.

Taking a moment before answering, you crossed your arms over your chest and nodded. “She probably noticed at the party, I mean probably caught a glimpse of the mark you left and noticed how we were easily conversing.” At the mention of the hickey the older woman smiled and you looked at her. “I mean it, Wanda.” you muttered then she sat on your bed, biting her lower lip while her eyes somehow landed on your legs then looking into your orbs once again. “What do you want me to do about it?” you sighed at her question and you looked away from her enchanting eyes for a second. “Assure me that your husband and especially Mr. Stark won't find out about us.” you requested.

Wanda ran her fingers through her hair then she collected her thoughts trying to come up with words to tell you. “Alright, come here.” she said, you did hesitate for a moment but you can't help but do what she asked you to do. Her hands went to your waist, gently pulling you towards her, and eventually, you found yourself straddling her lap while you faced her. “You don't have to worry about Jarvis and as for Tony… he's not a problem, he's got far too many on his plate to think about this or us.” Her answer sounded too confident and you didn't like how that easily came from her. “Wanda, you told me before that your husband likes to cause a scene.” you reminded her and she tilted her head staying silent as she wanted to hear what you had to say.

“Sweetheart, Jarvis and I are basically separated at this point.” she scoffed. “I mean, we do live in the same house but it's been years since we've slept on the same bed.” she assured you and slowly, Wanda moved her hand from your waist and went to the small of your back. “What about Diana?” you ask her. “Well, from how I see things with you and Prince… I made her jealous.” she says with a proud smile. “She won't do anything to harm you, you're too precious for her to even lay a finger on.” The redhead noticed that you weren't 100% on board with her yet and she thought maybe you were really worried. “Y/N, I promise you, no one's going to harm you, I won't let them.” she whispered, this time you moved your arms around her shoulders and the both of you knew what you both wanted.

“This little affair will be our secret, alright? Yelena, Natasha, and Carol are the ones who know about it, and probably that bartender guy you're friends with.” The older woman assured you once again, though the moment she was about to lean in for a kiss you pulled back. “Why stay with Jarvis, though?” you asked all of a sudden and you got off her lap knowing how distracted she was with you, so you sat on the chair by your work desk so she could tell her story straight. “It’s a long story, malysh, I don't see it relevant on why he should be brought up.” she said and you can't help but raise a brow. “I think he's perfectly relevant, I mean am I your little experiment if you like girls, you need someone to play with to pass time, or he cheated and you're trying to get back at him.” you rambled through the different scenarios and Wanda shook her head. “None of those, and I guess we're really talking about it.” Wanda says with a sigh.

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ᗢ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

The redhead got comfortable on your bed while you went on to get some snacks and drinks for the both of you in the kitchen, after all, she did say it's going to be a long story. “I met Jarvis when we were in college, we shared this class and he was good when we met, he's a level-headed guy, he was kind of a nerd and I thought he's kind of charming for that.” She went on to tell details of how much she thought that her husband was such a good man and while she did you were pouring some red wine in your glasses since that's the only drink you currently have at home. “Then, we went on a couple of dates, and did the deed a couple of times until I got knocked up.” Wanda casually says then you widen your eyes not expecting that at all, then you take a sip from your glass just as you listen to her talk.

You loved how her accent would slip now and then, how she fiddled with her finger while she went to tell you the story of her and Jarvis. “Oh and even way before I met him, he has been under Stark's wing… Where was I?” “You got knocked up.” you answered her. “Right, I got knocked up and of course, he told Stark about it and he's told that he should take full responsibility, eventually we got married during my pregnancy.” Wanda took a moment then she went to take a sip from her wine then biting her lower lip. “Unfortunately, he started acting so differently, he has become hot-headed, he has been going out to more parties and all that, not to mention he's a drunk, add to the fact that we're graduating so pressure's through the roof.” she added. “I had a miscarriage with all the stress and… when he found out about it, he didn't care about the unborn child, all he cared about was that he got the hot girl.” the news sure did shock you, which made you finish the glass and you went to fill up your drink once again.

“I’m so sorry for what happened.” You softly spoke and this time you sat next to her on your bed, then she smiled sweetly at you. “It's been years since that happened, I've moved on and eventually, I've also moved from Jarvis.” she said. “Why are you guys still together though?” Your question caught Wanda off-guard, well, she did think that all questions about her husband’s over but it seems like she’s mighty wrong. “You really are going to push this as far as you can go, don’t you?” Wanda chuckled, then she lifted her glass of wine to her lips, looking at you for a second before deciding to take a small sip. “I’m only staying so he could keep his image squeaky clean.” it was a short answer and you knew better than to push the topic even further.

“Is the interrogating done, sweetheart?” The redhead asked as she finished her drink, asking for a fill when she handed her glass towards you. “Yeah- I was just expecting the whole cheating husband schtick and not even an ounce of what you said.” you honestly spoke as you poured her another glass of wine. “Is that all that you need from me though?” she questioned you once more, only moving her hand when you handed her back her drink. “Well, it’s just that I’ve never had someone catch me fooling around and didn’t know that it’d feel something like that–” “Something like what, malysh?” Wanda moved herself closer to you, faces only an inch apart from one another, your eyes were looking at her alluring ones. “I wasn’t expecting it to be so thrilling yet nerve-wracking.” you say as if you’re under her spell once again.

“I think you and I know that this isn’t going to be something that’ll only happen once.” Wanda whispered. “I think I’d have to agree with you.” you replied, finally, the older woman took your drink and placed it on your side table next to hers. You feel her soft hand palming your cheek, the redhead admiring you and looking at you as something… better yet someone she could treasure. The redhead caressed your skin for a moment with her thumb, it is something so simple and so innocent, you didn’t know whether it’s the wine acting up or it’s just Wanda who’s making you feel hotter, you scooted closer towards her and as you flutter your eyes close you caught a glimpse of her smiling when leaned into her. Wanda made the first move… She gently pressed her lips against yours, this time it’s much more gentle compared to how the both of you were the last time, you took your time matching her rhythm, taking a moment to get a good feel of her soft pair on yours. The two of you were picking up the pace steadily, she wasn’t rushing and honestly, you liked that she lingered at this pace.

“Wanda…” you whispered, yet you only received a soft “Hmm?” from the latter and after that it was just more kissing “The walls are thin here.” you purred against her lips. “Then I think we should be quiet, sweetheart.” the redhead cooed, with that being said the both of you went back to your makeout session. You were so used to taking the lead and now that someone’s taking that responsibility for you… you can’t help but fall right into her hands, allow yourself to be taken care of. Wanda shifted her hand from your cheek and located it back to your waist once again, her free hand moving towards the side of your thigh, grasping on it so she could usher you to move your legs and lay on your bed. Doing what she wishes for you to do, the redhead took off her office blazer, revealing the spaghetti strapped tank top before you, god, she was such a sight to look at. “You know I’m assuming that you like what you see.” Wanda chuckled softly and you can’t help but grow a smile due to what she said. “I do actually… I like what I see.” you replied.

She placed a finger below your chin making you look up to her, somehow a move this simple was enough for you to pool your underwear, as you gaze upon her emerald orbs you can’t help but see it so darkened with lust. Wanda went ahead to move her hands at the hem of your shirt, she did want you to see her taking your clothes off, so that it’ll be only her stuck in your mind, making sure that it’s her and her alone. You assisted her in taking your top off as you sat up and did the same for her, you easily discarded her tank top and you proceeded to put your hand on her back so you could take her bra off. Watching the strap fall over her shoulder, biting your lower lip as you admired her naked top right before you, the older woman knew that you liked this view even more, she took both your hands and guided them to her bare breasts, allowing you to massage them so gently, the way you held and fondled her was enough to make her grow sensitive to your touch.

While you're occupied with her breasts, she took the moment to take off your as well, her lips were instantly painted with a smirk when she saw that the mark she left was still there. “I see that you've kept it.” she teased, though the moment you felt both her hands on your tits, you knew it's her turn and she'll take such good care of you, letting go of her breasts the older woman gently pushed you to lay back on your bed once more. You know how to please women and that you're confident with, you've had dozens of one night stands hitting you up so you'd do them for a second time and that's how good you are, somehow when it comes to this woman on top you… you're the one who's craving, wanting for a second night, desperate for her touch.

Wanda knew her way around you, maybe it's just the fact that you're easily pleased when she's the one doing you, as you lay underneath her you can't help but place a hand over your lips, letting out muffled groans as the redhead wrapped her mouth on your sensitive nipples, her tongue swirling against your nub and you can't help but feel your own wetness soaking your panties. The older woman made sure both your breasts got the equal attention from her mouth, she'd suck on them to her own contentment and she loved the fact how you couldn't keep your eyes on her, more so that your eyes kept on fluttering close all because of the pleasure she's giving you.

Eventually, her lips moved downwards leaving a trail of her kisses from your breasts and heading to your stomach, her hands found its way on the waistband of your shorts. “Do you want me to continue, Y/N?” the way your name slip from her lips sounded way too good, this woman is heaven sent. “Yes, please– please do continue.” you whimpered when she'd tease you with kisses on your lower abdomen. Wanda took your shorts off along with your underwear, she finally saw how much of a wet mess you are underneath your clothing. You somehow got shy with the fact that you're so desperate for her and Wanda got a feel that you did feel embarrassed about it, she smiled at you. “Oh, malyshka, this really is long due isn't it? I probably made you wait too long.” she purred when she moved herself so she'd face you once again.

“I’ll make sure to give you such a good time that none of your women could ever match with.” Wanda whispered, her lips lightly brushing against yours as she spoke. You felt the tip of her fingers feeling your skin, she gently ran her fingertips from your lower abdomen, heading down to your thighs, and her hand rested on your inner thigh. The redhead kissed you once again, her tongue swiped against your lower lip and you slightly moved your lips so she could gain more access. You could feel her hand against your private and it's more than enough to send shivers through your body, the older woman went on to move her tongue along with yours though just as she took over, you felt her finger slide in between your folds.

You softly moaned against her mouth, her finger moved painfully slow against your clit, knowing to herself that she's teasing you, she can't help but smirk seeing how frustrated you were getting that you were moving your hips just so you'd be able to feel more of her touch. “Wanda, please… just fuck me.” your words were honest considering the fact that it really is what you want. “Hmm, I need to hear it one more time and I think I want you to nicely ask for it.” her finger kept still considering you were shifting your hips against her digit, you weren't one to beg but with how desperate you're getting you didn't want to protest against hers anymore. “Wanda, can you please fuck me?” never in your life you thought once that you're the one asking to be fucked but here you are.

“Your wish is my command, malyshka.” her thick accent came on once again, Wanda took her finger off from your pussy for a moment and placed it against your lips. “Lick and suck it good, sweetheart.” she tells you, making sure that you obey her, you kept your eyes on her as you licked the base of her finger, your tongue moves to the very top of it. The older woman felt herself get soaked as she watched you move your wet muscle against her digit, before you'd take her finger into your mouth she added her ring finger along with her middle.

Wanda watched how obedient you are as you took both her fingers in your mouth, she felt how you're sucking on them and just as she knew that they were lubricated enough with your saliva, she gently took them off your mouth. The older woman rubbed her fingers on your clit in a circular motion, just the right pace to keep it stimulated but not enough to get you close to your orgasm. The moment she moved her finger at your entrance, you bit your lower lip trying to muffle whatever sound that may come out of you the moment she pushed her fingers into you. You gasp at the feeling and the redhead pressed a kiss on top of your head, she can't help but groan softly when she feels how wet and warm you are inside.

The redhead started to pump her fingers in and out of your pussy, you couldn't get a single word out of your mouth other than the sinful moans that you were holding back considering you didn't really want to traumatize your best friend next door. Wanda was thrusting her digits knuckle deep into your hole, you loved how you're a wet mess for this woman before you, she was taking such good care of you and took mental notes of where you are most sensitive, used it to you advantage so she could take you closer to your orgasm. “You’re taking me in so good, malyshka.” she purred and as much as you wanted to respond to her, she only got your moan as her feedback and it was more than enough for her.

Picking up her pace, Wanda went to thrust her fingers into you much faster and rougher than it is earlier, this time your legs were involuntarily shaking with pleasure, your toes curled up with how much she's making you feel good. Your mind was clouded with lustful thoughts and all of it contained Wanda, you thought about more ways she can fuck you, your mind went over to different ways she can do you and you wouldn't even mind being her own bitch. “Fuck, just do me like that please…” you begged Wanda when she finally got you where you're most sensitive. “Say my name, I want you to moan my name, malyshka.” she growled. “Please, Wanda, I'm so close… please fuck.” you cried out at this point, string of curses left your lips along with the older woman's name being moaned at as well.

The moment Wanda felt how you tightened around her finger, she knew you're about to hit your orgasm, the redhead pressed a kiss on your lips so she could at least help you muffle your moans during your orgasm. The redhead had let you take your time to ride off your high, just as your lips parted with hers you took a moment to catch your breath and the latter moved beside you, moving her arm under your head so you'd rest it there instead of the pillow, when your eyes met with hers, she looked at you with her kind smile once again. “And you're not even out of all your clothes.” You say when it sunk in to you that she still has her pants on. “What can I do? I've got a girl who needs to be taken care of.” she teased you before leaning in to peck on your lips. “Why don't I take it off for you?” You offered and the redhead nodded her head, after all… she knew how much you craved for her.

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ᗢ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

You lay on your bed naked and beside you was Wanda who's currently in a phone call, it did sound important though you're wishing that she'd stay a little longer on this bed with you. You two had multiple amazing rounds of sex and it did tire you both, and not because you have favoritism or something but this could be the best sex you've ever had. The redhead had set her phone down and had looked at you as well when she noticed that you were staring. “You've got to go, don't you?” you ask her, the latter nodded her head and you can't help but let out a sigh. “You know that there will be a next time, Y/N.” Wanda softly spoke as she sat up.

She got up to use your bathroom and you decided to get up and tidy up the room once again, picking up the clothes on the floor and you went on to neatly fold her clothes at the bed, you put on your shirt once again and it's enough to cover your privates. A couple of moments later, Wanda went back in the room, probably took a quick shower and she went to press a kiss on your cheek when she noticed that you arranged her clothes. “Maybe you'll see me again tomorrow, Carol’s been asking us to play golf with her for the past couple of days and we happen to have a clear schedule.” she said. “By seeing you, you mean me being your waitress.” you replied and while she puts on her clothes, she tilted her head at your answer.

“Let me know when is your next off, maybe I can match my schedule with yours, let me at least take you out.” She offered and you bite your lower lip. “Sure, just friends though?” you ask and she can't help but chuckle softly. “Friends? Is that what we are?” she purred. “Mhmm, of course that's what we are, friends who happen to have such hot sex.” she teasingly says and you softly laugh. “I make sure not to disappoint.” While you two went on to chat while Wanda’s getting ready, you went ahead to wear your shorts and it didn't take long for the redhead to finish.

“We both know that if we want something serious it's not going to start now, sweetheart. Plus, as I said before I want you all for myself.” she honestly spoke. “And as for you, I know well that you wouldn't want to share me with anybody.” she confidently said and she pressed a quick kiss on your lips once more. “It’s like you read my mind.” you say and she winks at you. “I’ve got to go, okay? I'll see you around.” she says and you went to walk her towards the driveway outside the apartment, the two of you didn't see Yelena so you figured she must've went for a walk with Fanny. Wanda bids her goodbye and you can't help but instantly think about your next time with her, until it hits you.

Maybe you really are now hoping for something serious with that woman.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.───

Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta @reginassweetheart @lvinhs @alexawynters @mfd-101 @dorabledewdroop @sokovianbaby @scarlettbitchx @nickelyy @lovejaylux

#marvel cinematic universe #mcu #marvel #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #yelena belova #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x reader #wanda maximov #wandavision #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #wanda maximommy #wanda maximoff x female reader #scarlet witch #smut #say my name #dysfunctionalmaki

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novthewolf · 7 months

Text

Two’s company, three’s a family - Part six

Summary : As a cupid, an angel of love, your mission was to make sure everyone was paired up with the right person. Yet you couldn’t get your two most ancient clients to finally end up together. And despite the 6,000 years spent on the case, you couldn’t bring yourself to give them up, oblivious to the reason…

Pairing : Aziraphale x Crowley / GN!Reader x Crowley / GN!Reader x Aziraphale (polyamorous relationship).

Parts : First - Previous - Next

Masterlist : Here

Warnings : foul language, car accident, broken bones, hurt Bentley, anxiety, nauseous reader, violent scene start at the ◇ (physical aggression, choking, non-con touching, death threat, withdrawal depiction) angst, slow burn, english isn’t my first language.

Words : +5,2k

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The night slowly fell on the tired English countryside. The sweet and warm temperature gently subsided to a more chilly atmosphere. Curled up against the right door, you slowly exhaled hot air against the window and drew a little heart among the mist. You smiled at your corniness.

"Hey ! You better not leave fingertips all over the window !" Crowley snarled in the front seat. The connection he seems to have with his car is almost frightening.

"Just focus on the road, and let me worry about entertaining your poor little bored car." You stuck out your tongue at him.

"Bored ? Alive, you mean ! If I left you and the Bentley alone, Hell knows how I would find the both of you."

"Aww, me as well ?" You cajoled in a fake-sweet tone.

"Sure, I couldn't do anything to you if you were already broken down to smithereens." He joked darkly, glancing your way and baring his teeth.

You gasped loudly and put your hand on your chest.

"You wouldn't dare..."

Aziraphale chuckled lightly and shook his head. He kept looking around outside, as if waiting for the anti-Christ to pop out of nowhere.

"I could and I would, sweetheart." The demon boasted with his raspy voice, now focusing on the road.

You laughed breathlessly in disbelief, already coming up with a comeback. However, a sudden wave of unexpected smell appeared to your little nose.

"Woah..." You inhaled loudly, enjoying the smell. Gosebumps pigmented the exposed skin of your left arm. It wasn't the first one, but it has never been so strong. You straightened up and scooted over to Aziraphale.

"Did you feel that ?" Not only do other angels not smell emotions, but love has a very specific flavour for everyone. Well, maybe it was generic for every cupid, but you never dared to ask.

"Yes, there's a very peculiar feeling to this whole area."

"Really ? I didn't notice anything in particular." Crowley shrugged.

"I'm astonished you can't feel it."

"I don't feel anything out of the ordinary." He insisted, dismissing your whole debate.

Aziraphale obviously didn't understand the feeling right away, so you just have to play dumb until then. Your eyes catch a glimpse of a silhouette in the forest. Probably a deer or another big animal.

"Mmh..-"

"Love !" Aziraphale exclaimed joyfully. Your ears peaked at the familiarity of the word, while pink coloured the thin skin. Your nostrils flared, and you caught the distinct smell of macarons and rosé. Crowley was as flustered as you were apparently.

"Flashes of love" He turned your way for confirmation, nodding quickly. You mimicked his movements before gazing back into the dark. The deer you remember shouldn’t technically be capable of producing any light...

"Guys-" You started urgently, clueing yourself to the window, trying to see if what you saw was human.

"You're being ridiculous." Crowley claimed through gritted teeth. You moved back to the middle when you couldn't see the light anymore.

"The last thing we need right now is..."

Crowley's reflection was cut short as the Bentley got hit by someone. The force of the shock made the whole structure tremble. You desperately hung yourself on Aziraphale's seat and the angel himself. Crowley's hand smacked to the left dashboard in front of the two of you in a reflex. Nobody moved for a few seconds.

"You hit someone." The angel observed, fixed.

"No, I didn't. Someone hit me." Crowley defended himself, looking over your way. You grabbed Aziraphale's shoulder and pulled yourself up.

"Let's see." You said your face was sombre.

The night was fully settled now; it was really hard to see anything. The leaves crunched under your feet as you felt Aziraphale join you. The angel then snapped his finger to identify the groaning form.

"Let there be light."

Your eyes squinted at the sudden light. Mmph. The animal you thought you saw was actually a young woman and a poor, injured bicycle. She was alive, proven by the complaints she made, so that was a relief. Alive and conscious, mind you.

"How the hell did you do that ?" She groaned, though she couldn't move. You looked over at Crowley with a clenched jaw. He looked at you in a lighthearted way before snapping the light away. The Bentley shone with a single headlight and looked quite banged up.

"I think I hit my head..." The weak voice called you back, and you hurried yourself towards the poor thing. You squatted down and looked over for any injuries. And apparently, everyone around the world seems to have very fragile wrists. You saw Aziraphale follow your lead and check if her legs got hurt too. Gently, you caressed the broken bones away.

"There are no broken bones." You whispered to hide the cracking bones. You shared a look with Aziraphale, who simply smiled, assuring you that's everything you needed to heal. As for Crowley, he carefully rotated around his car, fixing the broken headlight and popping the metal back into place. Slowly, she got up, resting against you for support.

"My bike," she croaked. Aziraphale went to get the bike and winced at its state. He miraculed it bettter and rolled it to her.

"Amazingly resilient, these old machines." You wondered if he was actually able to charm humans too. Or at least he tried, because the girl was nothing but wary as she put her glasses back on her nose.

"Where do you need to go ?" He asked nicely. You offered her a smile, which did nothing to comfort her either.

"No, no, we're not giving her a lift." Crowley interjected rudely. He wasn't very keen on letting strangers into his precious Bentley. You glared at him to encourage him to be more pleasant.

"Out of the question." He didn't back down but preferred to turn his attention towards Aziraphale. "There's nowhere to put the bike."

"Except for the bike rack." He stated it matter-of-factly. At the same time, you heard metal forming at the back of a car. You flashed the demon a satisfied smile.

"Ah, silly you..."

Crowley just mockingly smiled at you before rolling his eyes.

"Do get in, my dear." Aziraphale smiled sweetly at her, ignoring Crowley. Who held the door open for her, surprisingly. He silently insisted that she should settle on the left side, behind Aziraphale. That is why, now, you could smell how tense he was since you were right behind his seat. He probably didn't want someone he didn't know behind him. But you sure hope it doesn't rub off on you.

The young woman was like a frightened little animal, looking around the car, which behaved for once (until it started to blast Bicycle Race on the way), and she recently started to shoot cautionary glances towards you. You could understand, you were the closest after all. And since she started, you have seen Aziraphale look regularly in the rear mirror in your direction. You sighed, trying to focus on the music playing and observing the woman in the corner of your eye.

Her dress made you curious; not a lot of people dress this way nowadays. Her hairstyle amused you too; you had to restrain yourself from buzzing her hair bun. You smirked at the thought.

"Listen, my bike didn't have gears." She suddenly spoke up, her accent thick. It didn't bother you that much; you were just more used to fancy British accents. You violently crunched your nose at the smell of star anise. A small giggle tried to escape your lips at the angel's embarrassment.

"I know my back didn't have gears." She insisted. You decided to tease Aziraphale just a little bit.

"Oh, really ? How odd..." You fakely wondered. The silence was so loud when the angel slightly turned his head, not pleased at all by your amazing sense of humor.

"Oh Lord, heal this bike.." Crowley joined silently. You looked at him in the mirror, and you shared an amused look. Aziraphale tsked quietly before whispering.

"I got carried away."

"Oh, you can drop me off here." She pressed, scooting away from you. Crowley huffed while pulling over and rolled his eyes. Once the motor stopped, she almost bolted out of the car. You still got out too, just to make sure she was alright. Aziraphale was already outside, taking the bike down.

"And look, no gears." He smiled, dropping the bicycle against the gate. The young woman looked so confused, and you inhaled the sugary custard smell. "Just a perfectly normal velocipede."

"Bicycle." Crowley corrected; he was growing impatient by the second. Aziraphale was still tensed, and you were still guilty. But she seemed okay...

"Can we get on, angel ?" Aziraphale nodded in agreement and left the woman with a small good-bye. You still stood there, worried for her, scratching your arm.

"C'mon, get in, sweetheart." His voice had softened, and it comforted you. You stroked your arm to soothe the itching skin. The young American didn't smell so scared anymore. You bowed your head goodnight and joined them in your backseat.

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"I swear, Americans are so confusing." Crowley mumbled.

"You liked America." Aziraphale tried to cajole.

"No, I liked their messed-up crossroads." He smirked. Crowley truly had a weird thing for car-related matters. You were now sitting against the right door, watching through the opposite window. Yes, your feet were on the leather, and yes, your shoes were clean. However, it never seemed to bother the demon, even when you lied down.

Aziraphale looked back at you for support against his cynicism. You laughed lightheartedly, and the angel did the same. You really loved his smile, how his cheekbones would take on a redish colour, and how squizable they looked.

Wholesome moments like those made you forget that Love was disappearing from the world. However, humans always had a way to remind you of these kinds of things.

"Rah, come on... How bad can you drive ?" Crowley exclaimed.

"Oh dear..."

It was a car crash; it didn't look deadly and didn't seem to have any casualties. But... the air suddenly felt heavy, and the taste of blood seeped through your taste buds. You knew what followed next, and you were not quick enough to protect yourself from the smell—the smell of corpses and mold. It clawed at your throat, pulling at the darkest part of your soul.

Hate.

You gagged on nothing. Yet you couldn’t pull away from the sight. Not out of morbid curiosity, but because your eyes and your heart caught a glimpse of the thing you feared the most.

You thought they weren't supposed to rise yet...

Your breath hitched in your lungs, your heart sinking, down, down your chest. No, fuck, no. Your hands latched onto the fabric of your pants. Among the car debris and shattered glass stood the root of your broken heart. His hair is still grey, and his eyes are still as piercing as a hawk. And he stared right at you with those very eyes. And she smiled with that wicked look. And... moved your way.

"Please, please, let's get out of here." You didn't even recognise your own choking voice.

"Y/N ?" Aziraphale was worried and tried to see what horrified you so much. You couldn't focus on his voice.

Suddenly, your heart compressed violently, and your legs tensed up, ready to sprint back to heaven. With cold sweat and tremors rocking your entire body, you felt utterly empty. Your blood boiled right underneath the surface, ready to explode from the inside. And yet you felt... nothing. And that scared you more than seeing him could ever do. You needed love. You had to go back to heaven. You couldn't wait any longer.

"Y/N ? What's happening?" Aziraphale asked louder.

"I-I guess... it's just stress. Plus, I'm, uh... I'm hungry !"

"Oh, Satan, don't scare me like that." Crowley sighed, rubbing a hand on his face.

You laughed nervously. You couldn't stop looking back at the scene. But he wasn't there anymore. The skin on your chest stretched, seeking something you would never find anywhere again. A bound you will never have. You rested your head on the cold window.

"Let's stop somewhere." The angel suggested watching over you with sad eyes. You felt a protective force envelop you—a guardian angel's power.

"That'd be great; thank you." You were so grateful to have him. Well, both of them.

Luckily, a small dinner was open at such late hours, allowing you to replace the emptiness with food. More precisely, a sandwich, while Aziraphale preferred something sweeter. You felt a little better, but you still had to take some deep breaths from time to time. The atmosphere wasn't very light, as you could smell the snowy nights on both of them, clearly worried about their lack of trail. So eventually the topic was brought back again.

"Mmh... You know, we might get another human to find him." Aziraphale started first, still munching on his little cake.

Crowley, still focused on both of your foods, didn't register immediately. You always wondered why he didn't buy any dishes too if he was so transcended on how much food you two ate.

"What ?" he asked, deadpan.

"Humans are good at finding other humans. They've been doing it for thousands of years." Aziraphale stated.

"True, plus, the child is partly human. They might be able to sense him." You agreed, biting a chuck of your bread and ham.

"He's the Antichrist. He's got an automatic defence thingy." Azirphale hummed at that. "Suspicion slies off him like... whatever it is water slides off." He waved off.

"Rocks ?" You offered.

"No, not rocks..."

"Got any better ideas ? Or one single, better idea?" The sarcasm was strong in this one. You shook your head with a laugh. You couldn't see Crowley's eyes, but you knew he was nearing exasperation. Aziraphale simply wiped his lips with a napkin once he was finished. You swallowed the last bite, feeling a little bit better.

"Maybe we should head back..." You stretched your right shoulder and got up.

"You sure ?" Crowley asked. You simply hummed and had already made your way to the car. The reflection of the glass door shows you the shared look on Aziraphale and Crowley's faces. Your heart still ached, and your arm still burned. Your need for love—well, your addiction—was growing more and more hurtful by the minute.

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Mind clouded by a heavy fog, you lied on the backseat, not sure how long the drive was. You had dazed off the conversation, only hearing a ringing sound. It was frustrating, but you held on to it. You held on to any emotions now, to any remaining Love. You didn't know you would react so strongly; maybe it was due to your trip to that Tadfield village, but it was like the withdrawal was ten times stronger than expected.

You groaned as nausea overtook you once more. Turning over to face the road, you felt your right arm fall down, not touching the floor. Eyes closed, to minimise the gagging, you felt something touch your hand. In your state, you couldn't help but flinch away from the touch. But when you opened your eyes, you simply saw your hand first. As your vision lost its blur, you recognised the pale skin of Aziraphale's own hand. It stopped moving the moment you flinched but remained reached out. You felt your heartbeat heat up, your lips twitching in a shy smile. You took his offered hand in your own, caressing his soft fingers.

You hummed softly, enjoying the new-found heat. Things got even better when you saw Crowley's movements through your half-opened eyes. His hand settled down on your upper-arm and gently pat it up and down with care. Your scarred arm... But you weren't scared. And taht actually surprised you. A demon was once again touching your arm, and yet you knew he wouldn't hurt you. Neither of them would. And being certain of this made you feel so good. So secure. Even... Heh. No. Not loved. Maybe appreciated at best. Still, you basked in their affection, taking in every sensation the moment had to offer.

They continued to talk, and you continued to not listen to a single thing they said. Suddenly, you thought of something and couldn't help but giggle in a sleepy tone. Darting your eyes up, you saw Aziraphale's arched brow and curious smile.

"Ducks..."

"What about ducks ?" Aziraphale asked, ever so confused.

"They're what water slides off..." You giggled once more.

"Oh, that's right !" Crowley exclaimed as he put his hands back on the wheel.

"Just drive the car, please." The angel laughed, even if he tried to hide it.

Finally, you three entered the city. You let go of Aziraphale's hand and slowly sat up. Yeah, you still wanted to barf, though. Thankfully, you saw Crowley outside, ready to help you out of the Bentley. The door opened, but you felt something hit your foot on the car floor.

"You know, if you lined up everyone in the whole world and asked them to describe the Velvet Underground, nobody at all would say 'bepop'" You heard the demon nagging at the angel. The thing was a book, apparently about prophecies. Maybe Aziraphale would know what it was about.

"Say," you started while accepting Crowley's help. "Does it belong to any of you?"

"Nah, I don't read books." The red hair dismissed. He had crossed his arms on the roof and passed the book to Aziraphale as you handed it to him.

"It has to belong to the young lady you hit with the car." He scolded. He inspected the book, and the title immediately reminded him of something.

"I'm in enough trouble as it is. I'm not going to start returning lost property. That's what your lot do." Crowley huffed. You had to agree with him; you had your fair share of trouble too.

"We can always send it back to the Tadfield post office addressed to a witchy American woman." You jested through the dizziness. However, Aziraphale's reaction seemed quite disproportionate. Don't get me wrong; you would have loved to smell such jubilation if you were in a good mood. But now, the mix of lime and ladyfingers was kind of sickening.

"Oh ! Mh.. yes, jolly good ! Rather.."

"What is it ?" You asked in a more rude tone than you intended, but your temples were killing you, and no amount of massage could make it better.

"Just... mh..."

"Should we both contact our respective human operatives, then ?" Crowley was as disoriented as you, visibly worried and intrigued.

"All right." The angel was already walking away, crossing the slippery road to the other side, almost falling down.

"Are you alright ?"

"Perfectly yes. Uh, tip top !" Crowley and you comically followed the angel's movement. You would have laughed if it didn't mean feeling like you're dying from drowning.

"Absolutely tickety-boo !" He exclaimed finally, closing the door in a loud noise.

"Tickety-boo ?"

Crowley's question was directed to you, but you couldn't answer. That's it; you were going to pass out in any minute now.

"Y/N ?"

Sorry, Crowley, but if I open my mouth right now, you will strongly regret it.

"Do you want a lift?" His nonchalant tone sounded like a sham, but his hand on yours felt so genuine. You nodded, looking probably more grey than usual.

"Okay..."

Thankfully, you were able to settle down on your own easily. Maybe too easily, the Bentley propably pulled the seat out a little bit more than usual. Crowley drove as slowly as he could bear to your house in Brentford and helped you out to your doorstep.

"What's going on, Y/N ?"

Your pleading eyes met his own, yellow and troubled, darkened by his sunglasses. The last thing you wanted was to worry them, especially if it kept them apart. You sighed and looked away. Crowley would have probably followed Aziraphale into the bookshop to plan what they would do next. And now there he was, helping your addict ass, while Aziraphale had to do everything on his own. Oh, you were just a burden, weren't you ? But, oh, when he pleaded with such eyes, how could you want to keep secrets ?

"It's nothing, Crowley, just stress. But... It's true that... Heaven has been calling me back for the war." The demon tensed up, but let you continue. "And just... the simple thought of fighting you... i-it's hard." You teared up through your embarrassment. Emotions were spilled out on their own.

"We won't have to fight the war." He stated.

"Mmph, sure."

"No, we don't have to." Crowley articulated, grabbing your shoulders tightly. "If we can't prevent Armaggedon, there's no way in hell I'm going to stand there and watch the earth blow up." He growled.

"I... I can't just run away like you. I couldn't..." You choked on your own breath.

"But why, Y/N ?" His hands fell back beside his legs.

"I'm going to rest; I'll see you tomorrow, I promise." You hurried to slip into your house, desperately trying to flee the conversation. It took some minutes before you heard the red-haired man sigh and make his way back to his car. Hear still pressed against the wood of the door; you didn't notice Eden walking up to you. You gasped loudly, your hand flying to your bomb-like heart.

"Oh, hi baby..." You patted her head before freezing for an instant. Will she become aggressive now that love is evaporating from Earth? However, all she did was lick your hand and moo when you didn't pet her. You were surprised, but so relieved. Tears rolled down your cheeks, and you fell on your knees, hugging her. You rubbed your face on her soft fur; the texture relaxed your nerves.

Once you calmed down, you led your mini-cow back to her half of the house, which was basically a huge valley—a generous gift from Crowley. You fed her a big bucket of alfalfa, and she mooed in pure happiness.

...

Armaggedon means Eden's wouldn't be there anymore... It means nothing will remain. You had to hide her somewhere safe, where she would continue to be happy and eat grass all day. But what would happen if you did have to fight in the war ? What would become of Aziraphale, you, and Crowley ?

Would you lose them too ?

Not ready to face the harsh truth of your world, you kissed your baby's forehead and left her to her blissful ignorance.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

◇

The house was quiet, disturbed by the endless roaming and faint sounds of the wind. You couldn't sleep; you couldn’t get your head out of your thoughts. Where is that damn anti-Christ ? Where would Eden be the safest ? What was he doing here ? The last thing you wanted was to think of him; you always felt like you were about to faint. Or die on the spot. The white light of the moon shone through your living room, where he finally sat. You held your head in your hands, trying to hang your worries out of your brain.

You were just tired, and even if you knew sleep would certainly stand you up, you still wanted to try. The corridor was cold. Well, it could be cold, but it shouldn't be that cold. You felt the hair on your body bristle, and you realised something. Staring into the dark ahead of you, you knew there was someone there. And they stinked. A mix of anger, fear, jealousy, and hate. Imagine smelling naga viper, ice, moisture, burned meat, wine, corpses, and mold all together in one single wave. Someone was sending it to you. Stealthy, you tried to escape.

It wouldn't be him... It couldn't be him...

It was, sadly, a vain attempt. The thing jumped at you and pinned you down by the throat. It was choking you, stealing every breath you tried to take. Love was being sucked right out of your heart. You fought the creature, beating, biting, and clawing any skin you could reach. The green flesh was slimy, like hot bread dough trickling against your palms. You were growing weaker, and nothing you did helped. The creature suddenly showed you who he was.

Him...

"Y-Ystran..." You gagged.

Your chest swelled up, stirring your heart out to grab him. There he was. The one you were meant to be with Your bounded. Ystran, a hate demon. Your scarred arm burned and spasmed in recognition of its attacker. His lanky form overshadowed yours as he lowered towards your neck, his sharp teeth ready to bite off your throat. You whimpered and cowardly walked away from his touch.

"Hello there, Y/N... it's been so long..." he muttered. His voice was similar to the cold wind of an autumnal fog, where you could get lost in a matter of seconds. You didn't want him to touch you or be anywhere near you. Thankfully, he let go of your throat and instead slammed his decaying hand right into your stuttered heart. You screamed at the pain. It weighed too much, like dropping a thousand rocks on your chest; the pressure was killing you.

"Aw, it hurts, doesn't it ? You never thought someone you trusted so much would destroy you this way." Ystran mocked you, sniffing your neck to enjoy the sweet terror he brought you. His dry and long grey hair tickled your sore throat, and you considered pulling on it as hard as you could. Then, his hands started to slowly creep up on your chest, groping your flesh to get to your heart. You growled.

"Get your fucking hands off me !"

"But why..? You're mine, did you forget that ?" He licked your neck with his filthy, raspy, feline-like tongue, grazing his teeth on your fragile skin. The corners of his mouth stuck together, so that when they parted, the skin of his lips would strech too, with the most disgusting sound.

Alright stomach, if you wanted to barf, it's the moment.

You kicked him hysterically, wailing and yelling. "Let go of me ! Don't fucking touch me, you damn psychopath !" You charged a heart-shock wave and attacked your body.

Despite how much he tried, he couldn't hold on to you, even if your attack was weak. You dashed towards Eden's room to lock yourself in, but Ystran was quicker. He jumped at your legs and started punching your stomach.

"No, no, you're not cutting me out this time." Your heart tattled while he climbed on top of you, his flabby legs locking on your own. His hands grabbed your wrists and held them above your head. You coughed and spit at his face, but all he did was gently caress your damaged arm.

"Oh, I'm so glad you still carry such a tender memory of me..." His twisted smile repulsed you, and you tried to free yourself, to no avail. "I'm always with you, in a way."

You were dizzy. Ystran had kept draining your love and life force with a sadistic lust. Tremors racked up your body, and black silhouettes wobbled in the corner of your eye. And you craved and yearned for love. You tried to moisten your dried lips, tasting the air for a fragment of your desperately needed drug. Heaven called you, the bound was untied, and love remained solely in Paradise or in the minds of mad men.

"Oh geez... How could I have overestimated how much love you stocked ? Obviously, I should have known better !" Ystran hooted. "Silly me..." His claws came out of his hands, and your eyes focused on them.

Suddenly, you saw the demon's arm coming down on you, ready to slash your throat. And yet, all you could think about was that you would never see Aziraphale and Crowley again. And you, poor little Eden...

You didn't want to go...

You still wanted to see Aziraphale smile, thanks to your dessert. You wanted to hear Crowley's smile in his voice when he taught you about stars. You still wanted to spend unnecessary time with them, drinking, pampering Eden, discovering music together... And you never accepted to go dine with them, no matter how many times they asked; you just didn't understand why they even asked. Nor why you couldn't let them go. Well, I guess you won't even have time to find out.

And when you felt his hand's weight approach your face, the faint sound of your friends' names threatened to escape the barrier of your aching heart. But his claws never ripped your skin. Instead, the strident sound of the impact thundered in your ear, where it landed.

"Now, you listen to me, Y/N. You're going to go back to heaven, eat up all the love you can get your fucking hands on, and you're going to go fight in that damn war !" He roared and shook your frozen body. "But you better stay alive... Oh, no, you don't get killed unless it's me ! You're mine ! Mine to kill, mine to own !" Ystran slapped you across the face. The pounding in your head became unbearable, but all you could see was madness.

What were you going to do ?

You sobbed and closed your eyes once again, escaping into the darkness and just wishing that the nightmare was a dream. He left your body, getting up and staring at you with bare emptiness. You didn't want to see him; you wanted him to just leave you alone.

But Ystran had never been a merciful being. He kicked your pathetic weeping form in the side. You screeched yet, and you couldn't fight back. Maybe you just deserved it... Curling up into a miserable ball, weak and tired, you just waited for it to end. Ystran squatted down one last time to give you the smallest kiss on your cheek.

"See you soon, love."

He left. You knew he did. But you couldn't convince yourself that things would be better. Everything in your life will always remind you of what you've done. You cannot be forgiven, now can you ? Not after throwing away the only person who would ever love you. And for what ? Stay in Heaven ? Sure, look what he gave you: humour, isolements, and mockeries. You hugged yourself, unable to get up.

You kept looking. Searching in your memories where love could be Had it ever existed ? Had it always been a charade all these years ? Maybe you were just an empty, apathetic shell after all. A stupid cupid who couldn't even heal their own bound. You had it coming all those years. Fooling yourself with fake emotions and sensations. Everything you ever felt was just a fucking lie that you kept telling yourself to feel better. To keep going.

Not everything... A small voice whispered in the back of your head, despite your ragged breath.

When ? When did you truly ever feel anything ? Have you ever really felt Love ? Tears continued to roll down your cheeks, and your whole body trembled with fear, sadness, and desperation. But your heart seeked in your mind, searching for a memory, a crumb of love.

Anything.

And slowly, flashes of the past started flocking in front of your eyes while you stared at the dull ceiling.

Love ? Have you ever really felt Love ?

◇

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

I think I'm going to start a new hashtag : "Save Y/N|Balael", it seems about right x)

Hello everyone ! It's been a while, hasn't it ? I'm sorry about that ^^" I really didn't mean to leave that long, but life is like that sometimes.

This chapter was bit darker than I intented it to be at first, but I hope it turned out ok.

I hope you still enjoyed it though ! Don't hesitate to comment or ask anything; it always makes me so happy to read you all ^^

Be ready for the next chapter : we will be deep-diving into the trio's common past ;)

Bye bye!

Parts : First - Previous - Next

Masterlist : Here

Taglist : @legendary-maddie @kpop-athena @drugs-for-memes @emo-queer-boi @cunning-girl @mochikofi @brain-has-left @cup-of-tee007 @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @somekale08 @liyacreate @msyolocat-blogblog @scoliobean @notahappystan @nebulagoddess @ray-rook @brain-has-left @mxxny-lupin @bluebear19 @yvonneeeee @kniselle @dmitrytherat @lookingforlifeoutthere @neenieweenie @lunalixya @socksandaslide @planetaryperson @kaillou66 @elleofdragons @rust-in-polar1s @who-goopy-goober @shadowluna25 @m1r-rored @sebs-oxygen @lieutenantlashfaz @a-winged-dreamer @keira-kaz2y5 @redsakura101 @captain-winter-wolf-aehs

#aziraphale x reader x crowley #crowley x reader x aziraphale #twoscompanythreesafamily #good omens #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley #aziraphale x reader #crowley x reader #good omens s2 #ineffable husbands #david tennant #micheal sheen #neil gaiman

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eldritch-spouse · 8 months

Note

Hi Pinnie! Chopping block anon here again! Could we fill this prompt with Santi or Ludwig? I'm banging my head on the nearest wall, I can't choose. Honestly, I know I'll love whatever you end up writing. 😍

How would any of the TCE gang react to finding the object of their obsession (that they'd been actively trying to keep away from the Clergy) on Morrel's chopping block? :o

[Ludwig isn't really a current part of TCE, so I'm going with good old Santi. Also, I feel that this isn't where you wanted it to go, but I got a few thoughts along the way. Fem reader.]

TW: Nonconsensual hypnotism; Implied nonconsensual sharing.

He knew something was up when you didn't so much as answer a morning text.

You need time alone. All humans do. He thought he would too when he would occasionally -Very rarely- Humor the thought of a relationship. But something didn't sit right with Santi when hours passed and you gave him nothing, absolute radio silence- When you're usually so talkative, even in your moodiest days, you'll at least bother to call him a pervert.

The incubus supposes he ought to keep himself busy for a bit before persisting again. He knows he's... A little too eager for contact, and that can naturally irk you. Maybe one day of relative silence might make you trust him more.

The demon has been making the rounds through most of The Clergy's floor for the entire night, restless in his pursuit of clientele, in a desperate effort to get his mind off you. Really, Santi has made more than enough money to honestly call it a day- The crowds are well-entertained and buzzing with a healthy amount of titillation, all is well.

Except he's not quite satisfied. He's in a foul mood honestly. Sometimes it would show on his sculped features as he pleasured those keening beneath him, nothing he couldn't wave aside or fluster out of their minds if they did notice.

He can't quite tell what brings him to the restaurant. Sure, he loves the dirty little thrill of sliding his hand down the table cloth and making someone loll their tongue out with pleasure while they pretend to eat, but most people here don't really have their minds on sex. They're harder catches, essentially.

And yet, when Santi passes by the main kitchen doors, a sound makes him halt. Not just any sound, a squeal. That by itself is no motive to stall, the incubus is well aware Morell loves his job, loves butchering, that he often takes the time to play with his food

-Like the dirty little fuck he is, sticking his fingers everywhere and bending helpless humans onto his cock, like toys, like fuckmeat. A depraved lunatic, pleasant company in Santi's opinion-

But, for some reason, the incubus is sure he recognizes that squeal from somewhere. It could be mere witless paranoia, but the echo of it in his mind doesn't let his feet unroot from their spot, so he figures he might as well check for himself. A dark hand knocks playfully on the heavy kitchen doors, receiving no immediate reply.

" Morell? " He tries.

There's some shuffling, then an eventual. " ... 'M busy! "

Yeah, "busy". Maybe balls deep in one of them already.

" Oh I'll be quick, dear- Just one peek, yes? "

More shifting and another stressed noise he could swear sounds a little too familiar, rubs him the wrong way, before something that sounds a lot like "piss off" gets mumbled back to him.

Typical.

That's why Santi only sighs before parting said doors and quietly weaseling inside.

The bobbles racing around only wave at him before buzzing around in their tasks, giving the demon a decent berth and easily circumventing him. As usual, they're completely unbothered by what their boss is up to.

The salacious, mischievous expression the incubus used in preparation to excuse himself to the chef dies as soon as his eyes scroll up to the chopping table.

Now is the time to pat himself in the back for listening to his gut, because none other than you, his darling minx, lie sprawled on that metal rectangle, like no more than a slab of meat. Your top has been torn off, pieces of it messily fashioned into a blindfold and gag. Morell stands with one hand on your thigh and the other tight around the handle of his cleaver.

Something inside him boils hotter than the rifts of Wrath. By the way you struggle in your binds, it's more than clear you're not enjoying a second of it, and Santi almost wants to believe Morell didn't intentionally seek you out. He's never been that nefarious, that putrid. To provoke the demon he works with.

He couldn't. Not when Santi never even introduced you to his coworkers. They only know your first name and vague descriptions of your face, your hair... That's not enough for someone he works with to miraculously hunt you down.

" Tha Hell did ah say?! Ya- "

" Where did you get that one? "

Santi almost doesn't recognize his own tone, and apparently, it gives the shroom monster pause too. Morell notices something's amiss, he's clever enough to notice the tense state the concubus is in, eyes glowing brighter at each passing second, deceptively still, one wrong answer away from perhaps impulsively starting a fight.

Morell looks at the human woman on his table, then back to Santi. " ... Tha fuck are ya on 'bout? "

" Where. Did you get that one? "

The chef's hand moves to your bare stomach, keeping you from squirming off the cold surface easily while he shifts to face his coworker better.

" Tha usual, Santi. I ain't been havin' time ta hunt 'em on mah own. " He shrugs. " Suppliers. "

The demon continues to glare at the blue monster for a long pause, finding no hint of a lie on those odd eyes. Only confusion and the remnants of exhilaration from what he was previously up to. This calms Santi a great deal. It was just a freak accident, yes? He let his favorite fox run a little too close to home, and she got snatched up... The incubus doesn't even want to think about what would happen if he hadn't come here in this exact nick of time.

Was it a silent nudge from Krulu? No. No, of course not, that's laughable- The lord of this pit spares no empathy for frivolities like their workers' love lives. Still, some unknowable force capable of penetrating the fog of this Clergy steered him well tonight.

Had this been no one of interest, the incubus would have still mauled the perpetrator to a pulp, if only just to prove a point. Or to thrill himself a little. But this is different. Very different. He can make the most out of it if he plays his cards right.

Santi shakes his head, then advances on the pair, unbothered by Morell's defensive puffing.

" You ought to start checking your stock more thoroughly. And not just their orifices. " He teases.

There's an eye roll. " Oh, tha's real fuckin' rich comin' from ya. "

He knows.

Nevertheless, Santi only smiles a little before hooking his claws into the waistband of your pants, grabbing your panties as well, before quickly pulling the fabric down. The newly revealed skin bares a jet black mark that is, by now, unmistakable to anyone who works with Santi. A concubus mark. His mark, elegantly claiming your most intimate parts for himself.

His claws tap idly on the meat of your hips as he watches the chef's face freeze, eyes widening.

" This one belongs to me. "

Silence. You wriggle and sob behind the gag.

" Shit. "

" Yeah. "

" I thought ah... Checked that one. "

The cook looks torn. There's some manner of guilt and cringing written on that darkened complexion, he clearly doesn't intend to continue this, but there's also some selfish sort of turmoil in his body language. As if he's upset he started the process and is now going to have a "pig" taken from his hands.

Santi's smile turns into a disgusting grin when a lightbulb casts complete depravity into his mind's eye. Your mark starts glowing, heating, and your struggling is rapidly paused. Morell squints.

" Hm, but what were you up to just now? "

The shroom hesitates, making some manner of motion with his dominant hand, which clutches his favored piece of sharp equipment.

Santi clicks this tongue. " Nice try. Before that. "

You start wriggling beneath the bigger monster's palm. It's no longer the jerking of a panicked figure trying desperately to escape, but a restless sort of agony. Morell's fuse lights up under the perceived scrutiny.

" Where tha fuck are ya goin' with this?! "

Santi arches a brow.

A quick glance flickers over your form. Today has been exceedingly traumatizing for you, the demon doesn't need to be in your shoes to know that. No one makes it out of Morell's kitchen, and if they do, they'll never be the same. You don't belong in The Clergy, not yet at least, and Santi knows that even with your currently arousal-fried brain, you're going to remember the events of today for the rest of your life- Something he can't allow to happen.

Fortunately, he knows someone who can just... Eat this unfortunate day out of your long term memory.

And, since you're not going to recall a lick of it, why not make this interesting?

What you don't know can't hurt you.

The incubus hums a wordless tune, pulling your remaining clothes down your legs, an easy task, your overheated body yearns to bare itself, he barely has to do anything. Once you're bare, Santi moves to the other side of the table, where your head rests, and starts undoing your blindfold.

Morell grumbles something incomprehensible and he snorts.

" Relax. Why would I stop you from pleasuring my minx? " Santi all but purrs.

" Yer real fuckin' weird. " Morell offers after an incredulous pause. " This ain't rubbin' ya tha wrong way? "

" Oh this is rubbing me all sorts of ways, Mori. "

" Gross- "

" You're hard. " The chef's protests are swiftly silenced. " I can't blame you. She's irresistible, isn't she? "

Morell crosses spotted arms over his chest and casts his eyes away. " She's uh... She's real purtty. "

That's one way to put it.

Santi chuckles when the torn cloth comes off, revealing a flustered, disoriented face. Your eyes glaze deliciously, pupils dilated in want as they surf between him and the blue monster, the mark's hunger going full throttle on your poor organism. The magic of a high-ranker is one Hell of a drug, isn't it? You make a desperate, muffled noise.

" There there, I'm here. You'll be taken care of soon. " He lulls, voice dipping in pitch just to make you shiver. Your head is lovingly raised so you can properly view the other. " That there is my friend. You wouldn't mind playing with him a bit, would you, love? "

Predictably, you nod enthusiastically, going as far as to part your legs in your stupor. Slick gathers excessively on your already stimulated pussy.

" Go on, Morell. "

Said monster gulps behind his thick scarf, drool clinging to his teeth at the lurid encouragement of his fiendish coworker, his fingers already itching to reach out and do as he pleases.

" Show us what you do with your piggies. "

#Santi oc #Morell oc #yandere monster #yandere teratophilia

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talatomaz · 2 years

Text

count to three | wanda maximoff x fem!reader

a/n: this turned out more dark than i intended and the smut might be a bit rusty since i’ve not written it since last october

(feedback/positive comments are appreciated)

warnings: angst. smut - manipulation, dark wanda, dubcon, mommy kink, legal age gap (reader is 18+), brief dry humping, use of wanda’s magic, power imbalance, brief choking, strap on, dacryphilia, edging, cockwarming, breeding kink, pet names, degradation, overstimulation, belly bulge kink

word count: 2.6k

masterlist | navigation | request rules | series overview

i do not give you permission to repost or translate my fics on any platform - likes/reblogs are okay and are much appreciated

“May I ask why? Were my answers not good enough? Was I less qualified than the others?”

You asked, swallowing hardly when you heard your voice waver. You were gutted. You’d interviewed for a job at a prestigious tech company and, even though you tried not to get your hopes up, you knew you’d done extremely well in the interview. You well and truly believed that you would be successful in getting the job.

Unfortunately, the universe had other plans for you.

The interviewer had called you to let you know that you didn’t get the job and you couldn’t help when your heart sank to the pit of your stomach, tears filling your eyes.

You knew that it wouldn’t necessarily affect you financially, since you still worked for Wanda and all. But with you having started a new relationship with her and having already moved in with her after only 6 months of dating, the lines between work and home started to become blurred.

“No,” he politely addressed you as Miss, “You would have been a perfect fit for the role but um…”

The older man’s brief sign gave you pause, if you were perfect, why hadn’t you gotten the job?

“Mr Bermont?” You asked, addressing the interviewer when he grew silent.

“Look, you seem like a nice, hardworking person. Let’s just say that your current boss wasn’t exactly ready to let you go yet.”

Your brows furrowed. What did Wanda have to do with this?

“Sir, but I-”

“I’ve already said too much. I’m truly sorry. Best wishes for the future. Goodbye.”

The sudden sound of the call disconnecting jarred you from your thoughts. You stared at your phone, confused, as if willing the phone to magically light up with the answer.

You mulled over what he said.

Your current boss wasn’t exactly ready to let you go yet.

Wasn’t exactly ready to let you go.

Let you go.

A soft gasp fell from your lips when you realised the true meanings of his words. But then you shook your head, as if trying to rid the thought from your mind.

It was ludicrous. Right?

Wanda would never do that to you. Would she?

Then you thought back to when you told her you’d been shortlisted for the job. You’d been so focused on how excited and nervous you were, you hadn’t realised the way her eyes darkened. And not in the usual lustful way it did when she looked at you.

Replaying the memory in your head, you thought back to how her hands clenched slightly before she wrapped them around your hips, bringing you in close for a celebratory hug. The lines that appeared at the corner of her mouth, which usually occurred when she was angry in meetings which didn’t go her way.

She didn’t want to let you go…

So she told the company not to hire you.

Your confusion was quickly replaced with fury. How dare she mess with your future like that? She knew how much getting this job would have meant to you and yet she-

Your thoughts were abruptly shoved out of your mind as you heard the familiar sound of the key in the door.

Dropping your phone on the kitchen counter, you forced a smile to your face when your aforementioned girlfriend, and boss, entered the kitchen.

“Hi honey, sorry I was late. The meeting ran over. Everything okay?”

Wanda asked when she noticed you glancing at your phone.

“Yeah, um, the guy who interviewed me called me. You know? Mr Bermont?” Wanda nodded in recognition but showed no signs of having committed foul play.

“I didn’t get the job.”

“Oh baby, I am so sorry. I know how much you wanted that job.”

The redhead dropped her work bag and made her way around the corner to give you a comforting hug. You felt yourself leaning into the hug before stiffening when you remembered that she was the reason you didn’t get the job.

You quickly tried to make your mind blank, knowing your witch girlfriend had the ability to read your mind.

You said nothing as you stood there in her arms.

“At least you still have your job with me though, sweetie.”

“Yeah, just like you wanted all along.” You murmured under your breath but, of course, Wanda and her witchy ears heard you perfectly.

She pulled back, her hands on your arms, facing you. A look of feigned confusion cascaded on her face.

“Don’t act dumb, Wanda. I know you’re the reason I didn’t get the job. What did you do? Threaten to cut off all ties with the company if they employed me?”

Your voice raised slightly as you saw a flash of fury in her eyes. You had insulted her. You’d never done that before. But you were too caught up in your emotions to care.

“I know what’s best for you, malyshka.” She replied, her jaw clenched as she tried to keep her voice steady.

“That’s bullshit. You know I wanted that job.” You pushed her away from you but Wanda grabbed your arm with such a tight unexpected grip that a harsh gasp left you. She’d never acted like this with you.

“You better watch yourself, detka. You know I’m always right.”

You wrenched her hand from your arm, throwing it back to her side where it belonged.

“You knew how much that job meant to me. Just…Fuck you.”

The hard look she gave you almost made you falter. It was the look she’d directed at so many businessmen in the past which really broke them out of their resolve when they all tried to scam her or disrespect her. You’d never thought you’d be on the receiving end of that look. You’d never thought there’d be a reason for that look. You’d never expected she would be the reason why.

But as much as she was furious, you were just as stubborn and angry.

Ignoring her warning stare, you brushed past her rather ungently and stormed into your shared room, locking the door behind you.

“Just go the fuck away, Wanda. I don’t want to see you right now.”

You shouted through the door when Wanda repeatedly knocked on the white wood.

“Just open the door, please. Can we not fight anymore?”

Wanda asked as she stood in front of the closed door, her patience thinning by the second. Sure, she could understand why you were hurt and upset but she’d done what she did for the both of you. So you could stay together. It wasn’t for any malicious reasons.

Okay, well, that wasn’t true. Wanda didn’t want to let you go and share you with other people. She hadn’t gone through all that trouble of getting you fired from your previous job, manipulating you to work for her and later become a couple just for you to up and leave her.

When her question warranted no response, Wanda pounded on the door again, this time with more force than the last.

“I know you’re hurt. But I’m only gonna ask once more. Open the door or I will count to three and you can suffer the consequences.”

You sighed, exasperated. You knew you were making this worse for yourself by prolonging the argument as time grew on. But you remained steadfast in not opening the door. Until Wanda started counting and, when she got to ‘1’, she said something that gave you pause before you clambered to your feet and scurried to open the door.

“I’ll spank your ass black and blue and have you crying and squirming on my lap, begging me to stop.”

You knew she was deadly serious by the way in which she muttered those nefarious words in an unnaturally low tone. You could practically see her seething, jaw clenched as her fists did the same hanging by her sides. Now, she’d never hit you before and you knew she never would but she had given you a spanking one time that left you unable to sit for over a week. So you knew she was true to her word of repeating that action if you didn’t do as she said.

As the door opened, you barely had time to register the look on Wanda’s face before her hand wrapped itself around your throat, pushing you up against the bedroom wall.

Instinctively, your hands flew to clasp around her wrist; a futile attempt to relieve the pressure against your neck. With a wave of Wanda’s free hand, both of your hands flew above your head where they were pinned against the wall by Wanda’s magic.

“How dare you speak to me like that? Not only am I your girlfriend, but I am your boss.”

“I’m sorry.” You croaked out, still struggling in her grasp.

Wanda uncurled her hand from your throat causing you to splutter a cough; your hands still trapped above your head.

“I-I was just hurt that you lied and-”

Wanda tutted, quietening you immediately.

“Lied is such an arbitrary word. I simply just omitted to tell you what I did. But I did it for us. You belong at my company. With me.”

Her tone softened, reminding you of the gentle voice in which she almost always used with you. Whether that be at home or at the office.

“If you wanted to do something different or have other responsibilities, you could have just asked me instead of trying to leave me high and dry.”

You hung your head as she spoke. She was right. You could have asked her for another role and she would have gladly given it to you. She always wanted you to be happy and often gave you whatever you wanted.

Wanda shushed you when she saw tears fill your eyes. “I know you’re sorry, detka. I truly never meant to hurt you. You know that right?”

And you did. Even now, in the position that you were in, you knew that you were in no real danger because Wanda would never do anything to truly harm you.

Wanda stepped forward and covered your lips with hers, her body moving in between yours as she ground herself against you. You whimpered when you felt the strap that her slacks were concealing. Then you suddenly felt your hands grow free, Wanda having released them, and you wrapped them around her neck, drawing her in closer.

Your kisses grew heated as she lifted you into her arms with ease and dropped you on your bed. She quickly got to undressing you whilst remaining fully clothed herself. It was one of her favourite ways to have sex. You completely exposed beneath her as she loomed over you, dressed to the nines, reinforcing just how much power and control she lorded over you.

When Wanda unbuttoned her slacks, giving herself just enough leeway to free her cock, you felt your body still when she positioned it at your entrance.

Whilst you were getting more aroused and wet by the second, your pussy wasn’t lubricated enough to take her cock without being in any pain. And you certainly weren’t ready to take a strap of that size without her fingers in you first.

“Wan-Mommy,” you corrected yourself, “I-I can’t. Not straight away. I need-”

Your pleas fell on deaf ears as Wanda shushed you with another kiss.

“I know you can take me without preparation, little dove. Mommy knows best after all.”

Without another word, Wanda thrust herself inside you, bottoming out immediately. A strangled groan caught in your throat as you gripped the sides of her white blouse.

Pain shot its way through your body as Wanda continued to move in and out of you, not giving your body any time to adjust.

Tears fell from your eyes which Wanda leaned down to kiss away before attacking your neck, casually biting and sucking to leave a mark for the following morning.

You moaned at the action, tilting your head to give her more access. You began to feel yourself grow wetter as you started to get used to the feel of her strap; pleasure soon overtaking the pain.

When Wanda’s reached up to pinch your nipples into hard pebbles, your back arched into her, allowing her to suck each one harshly. Several pleas and groans filled the air as you felt the familiar tingle in your stomach. With Wanda’s attacks on your body, you knew you weren’t going to last long. And Wanda was well aware of that fact.

Just as you were about to come, she abruptly pulled out and flipped you onto your stomach.

“I told you Mommy knows best and I also know when you’re about to come but, because of the way you talked to mommy, i’m not rewarding that behaviour.”

“Mommy, please. I’m so sorry. Please let me come. I’ll never leave you.”

Once again, your pleas were futile.

For the next 30 minutes, an hour; you weren’t really sure. You were so drunk on Wanda’s strap and nearing passing out that you’d lost count of the amount of times the redhead had brought you to the brink of release before cruelly snatching it away.

Tears soaked the pillow beneath your face, your hands cramping from clutching the duvet for so long.

“Aww, is my malyshka too much of a whore to form any words?”

Wanda cooed when desperate whimpering was the only sound you were capable of making.

“My baby took her punishment so well.”

Wanda continued as she started to pound into you. Wrapping one hand in your hair as the other rested on your hip, she dragged you up so she could whisper in your ear.

“Come any time you want, little dove.”

With that, she dropped your head back down to the pillow and grabbed your other hip, using the momentum to force herself in and out of you.

“God, I’m practically splitting your pretty little pussy open. Look how deep you’re taking me.”

Wanda praised, reaching down to press on the small bulge that had formed in your lower stomach. Your juices dripped down your thighs and onto Wanda’s slacks, ruining them.

“Look at the mess you’ve made. All over Mommy’s pants. Now be a good girl and give Mommy what she wants.”

Her grunts grew almost animalistic as she roughly pounded into you. Your back arched into her chest and, with her free hand, she reached down to rub harshly on your clit. You moaned again at the sudden overstimulation, your hand grabbing the wrist that was between your legs.

“Mommy, p-please. I’m s-so close. I can’t.” Your words were replaced by another moan that made its way through your throat.

Wanda’s teeth nipped at your ear lobe before she whispered in your ear, telling you the words you so desperately begged to hear.

“Come for Mommy. Show me how much you love me.”

Almost immediately, you came around her cock, your body going limp as she continued to fuck into you, chasing her own high. Your body fell down to the bed, Wanda following you down. As she came, she rutted in you a few times before staying on top of you.

“One of these days, I will actually come in you. I’ll breed you and have you carrying our beautiful children. Then you can never truly leave me.”

Wanda murmured in your ear but you barely registered her words as you started to fall into a deep slumber. Your body absolutely wrecked emotionally and physically.

Wanda turned you both over so you were laying on top of her chest, cradled in her arms as she held you close. She grinned to herself as she glanced over to the closet door that was ajar. Behind it was a box filled with the very toy she needed to fulfil her earlier promise.

She couldn’t wait.

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vodika-vibes · 6 months

Note

Round 8 *ding ding ding*

(Final one, I promise)

Fives and "I'm not jealous. I just know the intentions of someone like that has for you, even if you claim not to see them yourself."

Please and thank you, my love 💚💚💚

@the-bad-batch-baroness

Not Jealous

Summary: Fives doesn't like the businessman you're meeting with.

Pairing: ARC Trooper Fives x Reader

Word Count: 1248

Warnings: Hints of spice near the end

Tagging: @trixie2023

A/N: Notes about this AU. Reader's family owns a company that is intricately twined with the GAR, to the point where injured clones are "traded" to the company in exchange for their technology. The Clones traded to the company are offered top-notch medical care, full time jobs, paychecks, as well as their own fully furnished apartments. And Echo, after being recovered, was sent to the company for the better medical care as well as better prosthetics.

Divider by Saradika

You absently twirl your pen between your fingers as the heavy silence in your workshop becomes deafening. You keep your gaze locked on Fives, clad in all of his armor, and standing stock still against the wall.

He’s in a foul mood. You don’t need to be a jedi to see that. Though you can’t quite figure out why.

Your Fives is usually so good about communicating with you, so his foul temper is concerning, to say the least.

It’s been a year now, since Fives joined your family's company as your personal bodyguard. Your older brother found him, drugged and rambling, on the lower levels and immediately brought Fives home to receive medical attention.

Once Fives was sober, he spilled the whole story to your father and the rest of the family, and since then the whole company has been doing everything in their power to undermine Palpatine.

It’s not a lot, Palpatine is Emperor in all but name at this point, but death by one thousand papercuts is still death.

Maybe that is what’s bothering him? You muse silently as you flicker your gaze back to your datapad, where you’re currently designing new prosthetics for Echo. It has been a year since his ‘death’ and he hasn’t been able to talk to any of the brothers he was closest to since then.

You feel for him, you do. But he still has a price on his head.

You turn your gaze back to the man you’re in a meeting with. He’s still talking. He didn’t even notice your lapse of attention. Honestly, you don’t even need this man’s business. Your company is wealthy enough without it, but father said you had to play nice, so here you are. Listening to a man crow about his achievements, as though you actually care.

He smiles at you, a grin that he probably thinks is charming but just comes off as smarmy, “Perhaps, my dear, we can continue this conversation without your bodyguard present? Perhaps at dinner?”

“I’m afraid my bodyguard will go where I go.” You reply evenly, your gaze drifting back to your schematics. Maybe Echo would like a radio in his prosthetic arm?

“Of course, giving the state of the galaxy that makes total sense,” The businessman replies with a booming laugh, as though he just told a hilarious joke.

“Just so. If there’s nothing else I do have another appointment I need to get to.”

“Ah, look at me, wasting your time.” He stands, and so do you, and he offers his hand. You take it in a firm grip and he wraps both of his hands around yours, “It was so nice to meet with you. We simply must do this again at some point.”

You flash a closemouthed smile, and, as soon as he’s gone from your workshop you drop back into your seat.

You look up when Fives places his helmet on the table next to you, a scowl on his handsome features, “He’s a pig.”

“Father acts much the same when he’s meeting with other businessmen,” You reply as you turn your chair to look up at him.

“No. He was looking at you like you were a piece of meat.”

You raise your eyebrows, “I didn’t know you were the jealous type, Fives.”

"I'm not jealous. I just know the intentions someone like that has for you, even if you claim not to see them yourself." Fives counters with a frown.

You sigh, “If you say so then you’re probably right. You’re so much better at reading people than I am.”

“He wants you.” Fives says bluntly, irritation laced through his voice. “He wants you and he wants all of your money and power, and he seems like the type who wouldn’t care how he went about getting it.”

“Then it’s a good thing that I have no interest in meeting up with him anywhere.” You counter, “Especially not alone.” You reach out your arms to him, “Come here, darling.”

Fives chuckles and walks over to you. He sets his hands on the back of your chair and leans in so he’s looming over you, “You know you could have just stood up and walked over to me.” He says, his voice warm.

You lean up and press a kiss against his jaw, “Why would I do that?”

“Spoiled.” Fives chides with a small grin. He releases the back of your chair, and effortlessly lifts you from the chair to sit on the table, “There. Now I don’t have to lean down so much.”

“Now who’s spoiled?” You tease.

“Hey, you try leaning over like that while wearing 36 kilos (80 lbs) of armor.” He taps the inside of your knee with a light finger, and you spread your legs so he can stand between them.

“So what you’re saying is that you want me to design lighter armor for you?” You ask, already eyeing his chest piece speculatively.

He taps your nose, twice, “You need to stay in your lane, cyare. You design prosthetics. Leave the armor design to your twin.”

You wrap your arms around his waist, “I could so design armor if I wanted to.”

“Of course you could,” Fives soothes as he drapes his arms over your shoulders, “But you’re in the process of designing prosthetics for my twin, and I’d like you to continue focusing on that.”

“Oh, yeah.” You grab your datapad and flip it so he can look at it, “Ta-dah! Echo’s arm prosthetic. I left a scomp in the arm, because it’s useful.”

“Matte materials?”

“No reflecting light.” You say cheerfully, “I’m considering adding a radio into his arm, so he can listen to music.”

“He wouldn’t want that.” Fives replies dryly.

“...how about a small comm?”

“That would be useful.” He leans in and kisses the tip of your nose, “What about his legs?”

“I’m still working on them. But they’ll be the same material as his arm.” You reply as you set the datapad aside, “Once he’s out of surgery, you’ll be able to talk to him.”

Something warm and wistful crosses his face, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I wouldn’t keep you from your twin brother anymore than you would keep me from my twin sister.” You kiss him quickly, “I know you missed him.”

“...I left him-”

“Maybe so,” You say gently, “But Fives, he’s alive. Focus on that for the moment.”

“You’re terrible at comforting.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

He chuckles and bumps his forehead against yours, his eyes closing, “Do you have another meeting today, cyare?”

“I’m meeting with you.”

He laughs, and kisses you gently, “You’re impossible.”

“I was worried because you seemed grumpy.” You mumble, “So I cleared my schedule to spend time with you.” Embarrassment heats your face.

Fives blinks, and then he crashes his lips against yours, “I love you so much.” He breathes against your lips.

“Love you too.” You reply with a happy sigh.

“Is the office door locked?” Fives asks as his hand slides under the sides of your shirt.

You reach behind you and press a button on your desk that allows the door to lock, “It is now.”

“My good cyar’ika, always so obedient.” Fives purrs against your lips. “That deserves a reward, don’t you think?”

Your breath catches in your throat at the look on his face, “Yes, please.” you whisper.

Fives laughs just before his lips catch yours and he leans you back over the desk.

#star wars #tcw #arc trooper fives x reader #fives x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #answered asks

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good-beanswrites · 2 months

Text

An 0309 drabble for an anon ask I got a bit ago :) Thank you for being patient, I really enjoyed writing this!! It's actually a little moment I've wanted to write since I started Milgram fic, but never got around to it. (I mention his injured eye, but don't actually describe anything)

“Stop moving around so much.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“I mean it. You’ll make things worse.”

Mikoto watched as the intensity in Fuuta’s gaze flickered between fire and fear.

He had a doctor’s kit laid out on his lap. Recently, Shidou had his hands full with Mahiru’s treatments and having intense conversations with Haruka, so Mikoto wanted to give him a break. With none of the injuries actually healing as they should, the prisoners were caught in an endless loop of changing bandages and checking for complications.

Shidou was grateful for the help. Many of the others tolerated Fuuta in the same way they spent only the necessary time around Mikoto. They smiled and placated him, acting like he’d gone mad all of the sudden. Whatever was making the others avoid the two of them, it drew the pair together. Mikoto was finding he enjoyed Fuuta’s company. Something about him was rather… charming.

“Me? You’re the asshole that will make things worse. You’re no doctor! Fuck you.”

Eh, maybe he had gone mad.

He took comfort, at least, in the knowledge that Fuuta was growing more comfortable with him. He sure had a special way of showing it, but Mikoto didn’t brag about being a people-person for nothing – he picked up on the way Fuuta sought him out during the day, pretending to be involved in his own activities. The way he struck up a conversation, then acted as if it had been Mikoto’s idea to come over and bother him.

Therefore it was exciting, though not surprising, when Fuuta allowed Mikoto to help treat his injuries. They had only done it a few times, but today brought a whole new challenge.

“I’m not performing surgery or anything. Shidou said it just needs some basic disinfecting.” He flashed his usual grin. “I have a steady hand – I’m a photographer, you know.”

Aside from Shidou, Fuuta hadn’t allowed a single person to look under his eyepatch.

He remained unamused by Mikoto’s smile. For better or worse, he could always tell when it was forced. “It’s not like I have any proof of that. You could be awful at it, for all I know.”

“First chance I get, I’ll request a camera and prove it. Want me to take a picture of you first?”

“If you haven’t already messed up my face…” Fuuta’s focus was glued to the hand carefully reaching towards him.

Mikoto pouted his lips. “Shidou trusted me enough with this. And you must have, because you agreed earlier. So If it’s not about me… You’re not scared, are you?”

There were some things that Fuuta didn’t stop to see through. He sputtered in surprise. “Hell no!” He lifted his chin, finally taking his attention off Mikoto’s hands. He stared defiantly. “I can take it.”

Mikoto felt a bit guilty for resorting to foul play. But not that guilty. “Good. Now hold still...”

He got right to it. One hand held ginger hair out of the way, while the other pinched the corner of the eyepatch. Fuuta’s good eye darted nervously around the room, avoiding the other's close-leaning face. Mikoto peeled it away swiftly, gently

As a horror movie buff, the injury didn’t faze him in the slightest. As someone who’d grown close to Fuuta recently, he felt a wave of anguish at the sight.

Fuuta squirmed. “It’s nasty, isn’t it…”

Mikoto reached down for some supplies. He considered mustering up a smile and saying there was no need to worry so much, but it would have been pointless. Times like these, it was kind of a relief when someone else could see right through him for a change.

“It looks like it hurts.”

“Tch, I don’t need any pity from you.”

“I was going to say, you hide it well. You’re tougher than the warden gives you credit for.”

His cheeks flushed red. “I – I don’t need any flattery from you either!”

“Don’t need anything from anybody, huh?”

Before he could come up with a retort, he hissed through his teeth in pain.

“Ah, sorry.” Mikoto immediately retracted his hand from where it had been dabbing alcohol onto the injury.

Steeling his expression, he muttered, “it’s fine.”

Mikoto tried again. He made sure to move with even more steadiness, his face drawn up in concentration. He saw Fuuta’s features flinch when he touched him, but he stayed still. The two were silent, now, as Mikoto worked. Leaning his face so close made the short task feel much longer. The reddening in his cheeks didn't subside.

He expected Fuuta to snatch the fresh eyepatch away the moment he unwrapped it – he was shocked that Fuuta let him adjust it into place without a word.

“Alright. You’re all set.” He started packing up the kit.

“Listen, don’t tell the others. About my eye.”

Mikoto squinted. He gestured to the right side of his face. “I hate to break it to you, but the big patch kinda gives you away.”

“You idiot! I just mean, don’t tell them what it looks like.” He pulled his hood down over his hair. “I don’t need everyone trying to steal a look at it like I’m some sort of freakshow.”

“Hey, of course.” Mikoto gave him a smile, the kind they both knew was genuine. “I’ve got you.”

Fuuta nodded. He turned his face away, his fingers lingering over where Mikoto’s had just been. “... And… thanks.”

#milgram #fuuta kajiyama #mikoto kayano #0309 #thank you so much for the request woo!!!#lmao it leans more 'serious intimate' than 'sappy romantic' - i hope thats okay #and yeah! i was actually planning to have a chapter in thermoregulation where yuno treated his eye #but every way i envisioned it wouldnt fit right with the tone of the whole thing #so ive been considering other characters and mikoto works So Well -- i was really glad to finally sit and write it out with him!!#its just... having someone as paranoid and ashamed as fuuta actually letting someone close enough to see/touch his most vulnerable injury..#it Gets me man 😭😭😭#and mikoto is also showing a very open side of himself - he has someone who trusts him despite everything thats going on with him/john #someone he doesnt need to preform for -- someone who truly trusts him #;--;#im torn between picturing the prisoners staying away from mikoto t2 or him self isolating while they all still really like hanging out #i went with the first option here but it changes depending on the fic LOL #anyway i hope you enjoyed!!!!#the two start out sitting really far apart and awkward but by the end of t2 with mikoto treating him regularly they start sitting like that #meme where the girl is putting on the others makeup LOL #drabbles #what if i keep procrastinating on school writing and i just write milgram fic forever and ever huh

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stories-and-chaos · 3 months

Text

Tarnished pt 3

[Helluva Boss AU where Blitzø’s childhood theft from Stolas’ palace is discovered and major consequences ensue for everyone involved. Trying to stick with established lore but taking some liberties to make the drama work. Multiple headcanons from various sources I’ve come across included as suits the story. Starts roughly five years before Murder Family, I’m making assumptions about the timeline]

[18+ rating for language, sex, violence, alcohol consumption, abuse, and general Hellaverse-ness]

[Part 3/?? Word count 3826 Mostly SFW]

—————

His dreams were pleasant nonsense until they shifted to something prompted by memory in the early morning hours. A growling hiss, searing pain in his palm, his own childish voice repeating “don’t hurt him, don’t hurt him.”

“WHAT THE FAWK STOLAS!” A screech unrelated to the memory/dream jerked him awake. Blitzø was crouched over him on all fours, that growling hiss rumbling from his chest. It had deepened over the years but the sound must have been enough to trigger memories.

Stolas didn’t have time to think about that however. Stella, the vulture his father insisted he marry, was shrieking next to the bed. Blitzø was crouched over him protectively. The imp’s chivalrous actions were marred by the facts that he was still naked and that in order to face Stella, his crotch was right over Stolas’s beak. His dick flopped against Stolas’s face; if he’d had any sort of erection the prince would have taken him into mouth just to piss Stella off more. But Blitzø was flaccid and his genitals slapping facial feathers was more hilarious than anything.

“WHY THE FAWK IS THAT PEASANT IN OUR BED AGAIN?!” If his wife’s voice could be compared to music, it was an out of tune oboe played at full volume by an amateur DJ.

Blitzø’s tail whipped around. “Oh fuck off you dusty whore. You knew exactly what fucking night it was. Satan’s taint, you even had your personal Chucklefucks bring me in.” He shifted his posture to look her closer in the eye. Now he was straddling the prince’s chest, tail still flicking around Stolas’s head. “Thanks for that by the way bitch; they scratched up my hooves, motherfuckers.”

Stella loomed over the male demons. Blitzø flinched at her approach but stood his ground. “I couldn’t let you just saunter in here like you own the palace. Especially when you keep forgetting your place, you foul mouthed cock sucker.” She refused to put herself at eye level with any lower ranked demon. “And I know you being late results in some sort of punishment. Which apparently this excuse for a man is too weak to follow through on.” Her dark pink eyes glared at the two down her elegant beak. She looked the part of a distinguished prince’s wife, but five seconds in her company made that illusion fall apart.

Blitzø couldn’t help himself; he stuck his tongue out with a smirk. “What can I say, I’m verrrrrry good at apologizing to Master Stolas.” He ran his hands down his chest and thighs seductively. “You’d know if you ever unclenched your cloaca long enough to try.” He kept smirking, his forked tongue sticking out and flicking at Stella.

She squawked, her hair feathers rustling in anger. “How dare you, you little bastard.” She raised a manicured claw to back hand the imp. Before she could swing, Stolas grabbed her wrist. He squeezed with just enough pressure to keep her attention.

“Firstly Stella, this is my bed in my chambers. You and I haven’t shared a room since Octavia hatched.” He matched her glare, the frustration over his marriage boiling up in a rare show of anger. “Secondly, Blitzø is bound to me and has been since before you and I ever met. So you, my bitch of a wife, have no say in what happens between us.” She opened her beak to interrupt but Stolas kept on. “And thirdly, if you ever attempt to harm Blitzø again, I will lock you out of the expense account.” This might have sounded like a weak threat but all three of them knew Stella cared more about her appearance and status than anything else in life.

“You wouldn’t dare.” She hissed and yanked her hand away. This year’s fashions had just debuted and Pentagram City’s elite party scene was just getting started for the year. If Stella showed up in last year’s gowns, all of the Goetia and Hell’s other notables would know she’d made some sort of mistake in her domestic life. Rumors would start. Any damage control she attempted would just fan the hellfire. She’d done the same to enough rivals to see that outcome. But Stolas didn’t back down. “Fine,” she turned dramatically, the layers of her gown fluttered against the floor. “But this isn’t over, imp fucker.”

Blitzø stretched and fell into the pillow nest after Stella slammed the door. “Shitbiscuits, I swear she gets crazier every day. Christ on a stick Stolas, you’re gonna have divorce her at some point here.” They’d both dealt with her abuse for years; Stolas’s threat would only keep her at bay until the end of this year’s party season.

Stolas lounged next to him, tail feathers swishing around as he thought. “I know Blitzy dear. I’m trying to hold out until Via reaches her majority. Then we don’t have to worry about custody or child support.” He lazily stroked Blitzø on the back. His talons stuttered slightly over a patch of white scarring, a reminder of a time Stella had been alone with Blitzø. “But I don’t know if we can wait that long.”

Blitzø could tell what part of his skin Stolas had come across. It had been nearly twelve years since Stella and her brother cornered him alone. Octavia was still in the egg and Stolas had a meeting with one of the Sins that day. He shuddered at the remembered pain. “I’d hate to think of what she’d do to Via if she had any custody.”

The imp loved the gangly owlette as much as Stolas did. He’d known her for her whole life. From a crowned egg (he still thought the Goetia’s egg portraits were ridiculous) to a fresh hatchling (Blitzø compared her to an angry peeled potato) to a downy ball of excitement (the cutest fucking stage in his opinion) to the clumsy molting preteen she currently was. The idea of Stella treating his Puffball like she did him was terrifying.

“Sir?” A voice piped up from the door to his room. “Is everything alright?” Right! Moxxie was here.

“Yeah, the bitch is gone for now.” Moxxie entered, fully dressed for the day in pressed trousers, a button down shirt and tailcoat jacket. Blitzø recognized the outfit from when some of the staff tried to push him into a more subservient role. Obviously it hadn’t worked. The clothes fit the other imp decently enough. “I’m just glad we didn’t have to deal with her last night, just her lapdogs.”

“I’m sure she’ll be out shopping as soon as possible today, just in case I do lock her out of the expense account.” Stolas put on his robe for a bit of modesty. “Good morning Moxxie. That out of tune alarm wrapped in feathers is my wife and mother of my child, Stella.” Blitzø snorted a laugh. He launched himself off the bed, not giving a shit about being on full display. “Darling, you should probably get dressed or I think our new friend will pass out.”

“Whaaaaaat, we’ve all got cocks here. I’m down to compare. I’ll fucking win too.”

“Yes but I doubt our guest is. Not to mention if Stella is about, Via may be coming by soon. She’s missed you as well after all.”

“Oh shit. Yeah, I don’t need Puffball seeing this. Be right back.” He grabbed the clothes he stripped off the night before and popped into the other room.

“My apologies if Stella disturbed you. There’s no excuse for her behavior but I do lock the doors when Blitzy is here. Apparently I need to change the locks again.”

“Oh, uh, no I was already up your high- Stolas.” Moxxie corrected himself quickly. He’d actually had some fruit as a light breakfast and cleaned up the kitchen before he’d heard the wall shaking shriek. Considering how well sound proofed the palace seemed (he’d barely heard anything from Stolas’s room last night) he was sure it had been ear splitting in person.

Stolas glanced over at Blitzø’s room, as if debating something. “Might I have a moment of your time Moxxie? Blitzø will take a bit and I have something I’d like to ask you.”

“S-sure thing sir.” They took the same seats as last night and Stolas pinned him with that four eyed stare. Moxxie was certain this was how mortal rodents felt when trapped by a bird of prey.

“You’re connected to Greed’s mafia families, correct?” Flustered, Moxxie gaped at the demon prince. “I’m sure Blitzy didn’t pick up on it, but your surname caught my attention.” He lazily shrugged his shoulders and continued. “I have no intention to inform Blitzø, nor to prevent him from hiring you. I just prefer to have you and I on the same footing. Or as close as we can manage.” There was no avoiding that a prince of Hell had so much power over even the head of an imp mafia, much less a fledgling member like Moxxie, that being on the same footing was laughable.

He nodded nervously, claws reflexively clenching the chair cushion. “My father’s head of the family. I was inducted just over a year ago.”

“That does explain your prowess with firearms. I assume your presence here means you’re distancing yourself from the family.” A statement, not a question.

Moxxie knew what happened to demons that crossed his father. He knew what would happen if Crimson got his claws on him again after trying to leave. But no one from the family or their muscle had done anything for him when he was caught. “Yes sir, I am.”

The red pupil-less stare became less severe. “Very well then. You’ll be glad to know there are very few in the Pride Ring that will recognize your name as being part of Greed’s crime families. The vast majority of the Ring is filled with Sinners after all. I’ll let you and Blitzy discuss your employment.” He paused, realizing something. “Or if you decide being involved with the Goetia family is too much, we can attempt to find you an alternative solution. It’s the least I can do in thanks.”

That was more than Moxxie could have hoped for. “Thank you sir.” The imp decided to press his luck. Stolas seemed open to talk at the moment. “Stolas, sir, what is this binding you mentioned between you and Blitzø? I thought the Ars Goetia were all powerful.”

“Is that what the rest of Hell thinks of us? Good to know the illusion of omnipotence is working. Sadly however, we do have limitations.” His gaze turned to the not quite hidden door. “When we were very young, before I even started my studies in the arcane, my father King Paimon used my own blood and sigil to bind Blitzø to my will. ‘To teach me a lesson in status and the dignity of the Goetia,’ he claimed.”

Stolas sighed dramatically. “Nothing I’ve learned has been able to break the binding. The only thing that might do so is my death…but that would likely cause his as well.” He glanced at Moxxie. “Please don’t tell Blitzy. It’s something I’d rather he not concern himself about.”

“Of course sir.” Secrets for secrets it seemed.

The owl prince continued. “In lieu of breaking the bond, we’ve done our best to test and bend it. At first Blitzy had to be within thirty feet of my person or my grimoire. As my power has grown, he can now traverse all seven rings with my permission and even the mortal realm. But he cannot be away forever. We’ve concluded his presence on the estate for a day every lunar cycle satisfies the conditions of his binding.”

“Who’s talking about me out here?” Blitzø emerged dressed in a long dark suit coat accented in red. A frilled high collar covered the gold sigil around his throat. Black and yellow bracers covered his forearms. The clothes were well fitted; not tailored to perfection but not something snagged from dozens like it off a department store rack.

“Moxxie inquired as to the specifics of the binding spell on you.”

“You mean besides the fact that it sucks ass?” Blitzø checked his reflection in a wall mounted mirror and adjusted his shirt collar slightly. “Whatever, I’m fucking hungry. Yelling at the feather duster worked up my appetite.”

“We’d best accompany him, else he’ll likely end up eating Fizz-Os with water,” Stolas remarked dryly. “Hey it works and I don’t burn the building down.” Blitzø opened the door with a flourish to let everyone out.

“It’s vile and I refuse to let it happen again if I can help it. I believe pancakes and eggs are in order.” Stolas led the way to a well stocked kitchen with a breakfast nook overseeing one of the gardens. Moxxie was just offering to help cook when a high pitched voice yelled “BLIIIIITZYYY!” At least this one was cheerful.

Blitzø braced himself as a fluffy weight landed on his back. He quickly supported the two long legs that stuck out under his arms as downy feathers fluttered around his head. “Oof, where’d these tent poles come from?” He waggled one of the young bird’s legs. “Stolas, you sure there isn’t some flamingo in your family?”

“Noooo!” The adolescent demon kicked her legs with a giggle before standing up to give Blitzø a proper hug. “You were gone so long this time, Blitzy. Dad was starting to freak out.”

“Sorry Puffball, I got held up in Greed. Made a new friend though; this is Moxxie, he might be working with me if we don’t scare him off.” He hugged the girl back, realizing his head didn’t reach as high as he expected. Octavia had hit a growth spurt evidently. “How’s the molt going?” She’d just started losing her baby down and was growing her juvenile plumage. She’d have another full molt in a few years when she reached adulthood. After that she’d go through partial molts to refresh her feathers about once a year.

“Absolutely awful! I’m so itchy!” Octavia was dressed in an oversized band shirt and loose fabric shorts so as not to rub the growing feathers. Normally she had a crown stitched beanie on as well but her scalp was too irritated for that.

Blitzø gently patted her arm. “I can help with that. Been helping Stolas whenever he molts since we were kids.” He stood on the window bench so he could reach her head once she was seated. Normally parents would help their fledgling avian demons, sometimes siblings. Paimon was the least attentive parent possible though. All of Stolas’ grooming had been handled by servants growing up, including his molts. Seeing his friend so uncomfortable, Blitzø had the servants teach him what to do.

So he had years of practice gently removing dead feather sheathes, giving delicate scratches and checking that the new feathers were coming in properly. Stolas could handle most of his body feathers at this point but his head and neck were hard to manage alone. Via had smaller isolated molts throughout childhood but this was her first full body one. Blitzø focused on her head, since that was likely the worst part. Her soft hooting sighs sounded just like her father’s when Blitzø did this for him.

Blitzø kept up his preening assistance; he had to be careful as feathers right next to each other could be at vastly different growth stages. Stolas and Moxxie meanwhile started on breakfast.

“Let me help you, Stolas, sir,” the imp pulled over a chair to reach the counter easier. “I can take care of the pancakes.”

Stolas blinked well…owlishly at him. “I should say you’re a guest and to allow me but assistance would be appreciated. Do you need a recipe?” Stolas placed ingredients on the counter. In consideration of Via’s molt and her increased nutritional needs at the moment, he decided to defrost some mice as well.

Moxxie started measuring and mixing. “No thank you sir, I’ve got it. Although if you’ve got some almond extract I’ve found it gives a refreshing flavor profile if you’re used to vanilla in the batter. Or perhaps some fresh ground cinnamon. If anyone prefers something sweeter I can add in blueberries or honey, I personally enjoy honey from Gluttony on mine.”

“Ooo! Can I have chocolate chips?” Octavia’s eyes popped open and she waved her hand to get their attention. The thought of personalized pancakes made her stomach growl in a very undignified way. Chocolate chips were more important than dignity at breakfast though.

“Make that two Moxxie!” Blitzø said from his perch behind Via. He was currently checking around the base of her neck. “If you jerks are gonna keep me away from Fizz-Os then I want some chocolate.”

Stolas set a bag of tiny chocolate chips next to Moxxie mixing bowl. “May as well indulge them.” Moxxie fired up the griddle section on the stovetop. “Coming right up Miss Octavia, sir.”

“Just Via,” the girl said through soft hoots. Blitzø’s attention really was helping her itching head. Her dad was helping her preen throughout the day but first thing in the morning was the worst. She let her eyes close, the comforting sounds of her dad and Moxxie prepping breakfast was accompanied by Blitzø’s unending chatter.

She’d never tell him, but his talking was basically like white noise for her at this point. It was comforting, similar to listening to the acid rainfall. Unfortunately the thunderclap that was her mother ruined the moment.

Stella strode in, wearing a gown only slightly less sumptuous than her evening wear. “As if seducing my husband isn’t bad enough,” she spat at Blitzø, “now you’re going to have your claws on my daughter?”

Via sighed. From a young age she’d known that her mother despised the imp that she’d come to think of as an uncle. Blitzø and her father had recently explained some of their complex relationship. Blitzø in particular was quick to reassure the girl that despite being forced to stay with the Goetia, he loved Via and her father. No mention of Stella however.

“Mum, I told him to help with my molt.” She’d learned that framing interactions with Blitzø as things she’d ordered seemed to mollify her mother. Stella huffed and waved her taloned hand dismissively, allowing them to continue. Via caught sight of Blitzø slowly flipping her mother off as she turned away.

Now she spotted Moxxie pouring the next batch of pancakes. “Another one Stolas?” She knew the current crop of imp servants (by sight, not by name obviously) and this wasn’t one she recognized. Like Blitzø he wasn’t dressed in a staff uniform, another giveaway. “Are you going to fuck this one too?” she sneered.

“Language! And no, of course not!” Stolas knew she didn’t have any respect for him, but it wasn’t like he went sleeping around with every demon that crossed his path. “He simply rendered some assistance to myself and Blitzø.”

“G-good morning ma’am,” Moxxie caught a glimpse of Stella before he remembered Blitzø’s warning about not making eye contact with “the overdressed bitch.” He quickly turned back to the griddle. He’d gotten the impression of pale height that rivaled Stolas’s, draped in layers of fashionable silk. Despite not looking directly at her, he knew this was how prey felt. The owl prince’s glare seemed almost gentle compared to the open hostility from Stella. Moxxie gulped, searching for some way to ease the tension. “Wo-would you like some breakfast ma’am?” Maybe he wouldn’t get chomped into pieces if she was distracted by food.

Another moment of her glaring. “Have it and a pot of coffee brought to the dining room.” She whirled back around, making sure her full skirt swirled with the proper flair. She clap her hands with glee, as if coming up with an amazing idea. “Octavia, poppet, do you want to go shopping with Mummy today?”

The owlette perked up. “Oh, can we go to Stylish Occult? Or Eclipsed Shore? There’s a new album by-“

“Pwah ha ha! Of course not dear, we won’t be going to plebeian shops like those. No we’re going dress shopping. Doesn’t that sound fun?”

“Not really.” Even on good days going dress shopping with her mother was exhausting. It couldn’t be called clothes shopping since Stella only wore gowns and would only purchase dresses for her daughter as well. The thought of being a giant doll for a day, shoved into unfamiliar clothes, made her already itchy skin crawl. “Trying on a bunch of dresses is gonna make me loose even more feathers.”

“I suppose you have a point poppet. Another time then.” As quickly as she entered Stella swept out of the kitchen, not sparing any more attention on her husband or the imps. Used to this, Stolas simply buzzed for a servant. Once Stella’s portion was plated to her preferred level of elegance the small imp server left with the meal, a carafe of strong coffee and a bottle of coffee liqueur on a cart.

Moxxie and Stolas delivered stacks of pancakes with eggs (and defrosted mice for Via) to the table. Blitzø had already finished the mini preen so they’d just been chatting as they waited. Via and Blitzø’s identical looks of sparkling glee at the sight of their chocolatey breakfasts proved they had spent a lot of time together. Blitzø launched into his stack while Via ate in a more refined manner. Except for the mice. There was no refined way to swallow mice whole.

Sipping his own coffee Stolas asked, “Do you want to go out today sweetheart?” Yesterday she’d been too tired for much of anything. But if she was up for it, it could be a nice distraction from the molt.

“You and Blitzy won’t be too busy Dad?” She was used to them being inseparable the day after Blitzø got back.

“Nah, I really do gotta talk to Moxxie about a job. Haven’t seen Loonie Toonie yet either.” He’d been talking about the Hellhound girl since her recent adoption but Via hadn’t met her yet. “I’ll be back tonight or tomorrow though Puffball.” He’d normally ruffle her head feathers but that’d ruin all the grooming he’d just done.

“Besides, I want to just treat my little Starfire on occasion. We can go wherever you like. Make a day of it.”

“I’ll get dressed!” She popped out of her chair and rushed off to room, legs tangling a bit on her way out. “See you later Blitzy! Thanks for breakfast Moxxie, it was great!”

“I suppose I should dress as well; I doubt she’ll be long with how excited she is.” Stolas snagged a mouse left on Via’s plate and gulped it down. “Mm, delightful.” He stroked Blitzø’s head between his horns as he unfolded out of the seat. “Send a text when you’re heading back darling. Have a good day you two.”

A/N: Taking a few liberties with Octavia here as she’s much younger than in the show and not so jaded or angsty yet. Hopefully the wall of text isn’t too daunting, I’m trying to break things up in manageable sections.

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#helluva boss #helluva fanfiction #helluva blitzo #helluva moxxie #helluva stolas #helluva au #hellaverse #helluva octavia #helluva stella #helluva stolitz #fanfic #writing #stolitz #blitzo x stolas

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side-vermin93 · 3 months

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Well.

Long rant below this line if you're just scrolling by.

I normally don't do this sort of thing, I don't post my unfiltered dogshit opinions on any kind of social media, I don't toll the bells when I don't get my way and cry 'Foul Play' unless I truly believe that something is going wrong.

No doubt, everyone has seen the... colourful reaction to TADC's release date being set in May of 2024 (This May) and the Murder Drones tag on Tumblr is exploding for good reason.

Now, before I say my piece, I would like to immediately debunk a common train of thought often used by detractors to devalue the points that others have made when it comes to this controversy:

"Glitch is saying that they are taking their time to make the episodes and the finale as best as it can be." And that we as a fandom are "Overreacting."

To begin with, I personally hope that yes, Glitch is doing everything in their power to make MD as good as it can physically be, I hope that they are giving the finale to the season the sendoff it deserves.

But would it KILL THEM to tell us something? Post teasers, memes, references to Murder Drones or even something as simple as "Hey! You liked TADC, how about you check out Murder Drones while you wait?"

Instead, Glitch has spent months of complete and total radio silence, completely forgot the existence of the anniversary of Murder Drones' pilot, and as they did this, they continued to post teasers of TADC, including a personally vexing post that basically amounted to engagement farming, literally "If this gets 100k likes, we will open the door"

Stuff like this DOES NOT help assuage the fears of fans who believe that Glitch has begun to ignore MD simply because it isn't as popular or as profitable as TADC has become, it smacks of blatant favouritism and foul play when the fans of Murder Drones get nothing, meanwhile TADC is getting WEEKLY teasers, which is only serving to inflame the controversy between TADC and MD fans.

The thing that infuriates me the most is that Murder Drones is in its final stretch for (HOPEFULLY) its first season finale, and yet we have recieved nothing aside from the initial trailers and the release date of "sometime in early 2024" and we are now coming up on the end of the second month of the year, meanwhile TADC gets a concrete release date in MAY, which does NOT excuse the constant teasers and content for TADC that was produced before this point.

As for the overreaction? I think its personally an acceptable response considering the current controversy, but the biggest problem is what Glitch has said today.

"We're also working hard on Murder Drones & will be releasing final episodes soon!"

This, reader, is a very vague statement made by Glitch in their announcement today, and... well, notice how they said "Final Episodes"

Now, this could be Twitter and its word limit screwing them over, but Glitch (and most corporations) is very deliberate with their wording, and this could be no different, do they mean the finale of season one? Or is Murder Drones as a SHOW coming to an end after episode 8? We don't know because Glitch is being vague about this.

Now, because we don't know, we are (reasonably considering how companies often tend to focus on what is most profitable as opposed to any concept of "loyalty") reacting in a negative way towards this wording and believing that MD might very well come to an end before Liam is able to fully finish his story or for us to enjoy the show he has been working on for a long time now.

If it is the end of Murder Drones, then of course people are going to blame TADC for "Killing Murder Drones." Corporations have no loyalties and no qualms about being underhanded, only an appetite for more funding and appeasing their investors, and the most juicy of cash-cows practically fell into their lap.

Now, perhaps we are WRONG, maybe Glitch really did screw up because Twitter loves its word limits, then in which case, shouldn't Glitch try and clarify that in another post as soon as possible? Say that MD isn't going anywhere and that they meant the season finale?

Ultimately, we are in a very turbulent time and tensions are the highest they have ever been, and the next two months will either cool down into something to laugh about later, or there will a shitstorm. No inbetweens.

If it is a false alarm, then I will be there laughing with y'all about how I was doomposting like an idiot, but if it isn't? then I will continue working on my projects in the fandom until I believe I am satisfied, and I will be there when the shitstorm drops.

God, I hope it's the former.

Also sorry if the tags for this are crap, but I don't have the energy left over to fix them.

#murder drones #rant post

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coffin-contemplator · 22 days

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❝one of drunkards & regrettable decisions❞ — 𝒶 𝓇𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽 𝓃𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉, part I

Summary:

“‘Since when do you smoke, anyway?’ The agent clears his throat. ‘I quit, actually.’”

Please note! This is the first part of a trilogy, still currently in writing.

Sitting at a bar is something he hasn’t done for a long fuckin’ time and yet it’s definitely not nearly as relaxing and enjoyable as many people claim it to be. Who knows, though, maybe it all depends on the company you find yourself in. Certainly, whom he “chose” (if having no other option still counts as a choice, indeed) as tonight’s co-drinker doesn’t work miracles on his strained nerves in the slightest.

“Why do you always look so serious, Mister Special Agent?” The query catches him off guard as, in all honesty, he suspected the other man to be too preoccupied with his constantly refilling glass to pay him any mind. “Y’have a stick stuck up your ass or s’mthin’?”

The per cents in the man’s drinks have audibly started taking a toll on the user. Strahm catches every slur that reaches his ears.

“Oh, I don’t know,” he replies sarcastically after a short while of considering whether he should even bother. “Maybe… Hmm, maybe it’s because I’m constantly surrounded by deathly traps and moronic sociopaths?” The way he spats out the words conveys all the confidence possible to muster (and it should be noted that Agent Strahm has a pretty abundant supply). And yet they’re all but truthful—lying just to hurt people isn’t something his moral compass forbids.

He’s seen a fair amount of those previously mentioned in his time and in all fairness, the latter just doesn’t fit the description. Some traits fit, of course, but the entirety paints a completely different picture.

As per usual, his companion doesn’t actually look bothered by Strahm’s foul mood. Even more so, the agent isn’t sure whether the other man is even listening anymore.

“Fair point,” Hoffman mutters but it’s rather dismissive. “Want ‘nother one?” He points eloquently at Strahm’s glass, still half-full.

The older doesn’t get the chance to answer before the barman is already pouring more scotch in.

As much as the agent hates to admit it, that’s one of the very few things that he finds impressive about the detective—the bottomless pit that his stomach turns into when it comes to alcohol.

Not that Strahm feels jealous, though. He’s just curious as to how it’s even possible for Hoffman to still own a functioning liver. Who knows? Maybe if he killed the man and donated his corpse for science, he would earn himself a fair amount of money for discovering a biological phenomenon.

The agent’s hand involuntarily falls into the pocket of his suit jacket, searching for something. Before he fully catches on, there’s a cigarette between his lips and a lighter found by the other palm.

Surprisingly, this earns him a strange look from the accompanying detective. “You sure about that?” He asks, and again, this time he shocks Strahm with the clarity of his tone.

The FBI agent raises an eyebrow. “It’s not like there’s a ban in here.”

“Obviously, it’s a bar.” How the one connects to the other, Strahm’s unsure of. “But the smell ‘s annoying,” the last comment is spoken way quieter than the rest of his statements.

“»Annoying«?” Strahm repeats with amusement, an unpleasant smirk now playing on his lips. “So the odour of burning bodies is fine but a bit of nicotine has you all worked up?”

“Shut the fuck up, ‘s not what I said,” Hoffman hisses, then downs the rest of yet another glass just for a good measure. Or maybe it’s to calm down. Perhaps both.

The lighter still in his hand, the agent plays with the idea. This newfound button might be something worth pushing in the future.

“Since when do you smoke, anyway?” One more glance at the detective and Strahm decides against his previous idea. As rough as the drunkards are expected to appear, this is something else—a completely different level of mess manifestation.

The agent clears his throat. “I quit, actually.” With that, he drops the fav back into the depth of his jacket. The lighter stays as a means of occupying his restless hands.

Jigsaw could’ve put him into any of his worst, rigged traps and Strahm still would not admit he felt a pang of guilt while staring at Hoffman’s expression as his eyes perceived the small nicotine stick. If anybody asks him, he just doesn’t really feel like smoking right now, actually. Change of mind, change of heart, that’s all.

He’s also pretty sure his companion, despite the intoxication, managed to catch how quickly Strahm’s attitude changed. Either way, neither comments on it anymore, both opting for semi-tense silence.

Drinks continue to flow for a good while but Strahm finds himself no more than tipsy as he’s getting through them slowly, more focused on the terrible taste rather than anything else. All the meanwhile, Hoffman seems to be spiralling more and more—something the agent thought would end around three glasses ago.

The idea of leaving crosses his mind a few times at this point and yet he doesn’t. He’s not sure what that might be but something is definitely keeping him glued to his seat.

A disruption in the stillness of the atmosphere eventually comes along with the sudden appearance of a stranger. A middle-aged man, making an impression of being neat and probably wealthy finds himself at Strahm’s side without him as much as catching on in time.

As the stranger starts speaking, however, his motives become embarrassingly clear. Strahm finds himself being awkwardly flirted with. But at this moment of the night, he can’t even bother with a polite smile. His expression stays stone-cold as he nods along to the stranger’s infirm monologue.

He doesn’t really mind that much—at the very least his brain perceives the “interaction” as some kind of stimuli.

His companion, of whom he might have started forgetting a little bit, doesn’t share his indifference.

“‘Ey, duffer!” Hoffman’s voice is loud enough for the stranger to involuntarily look up at him. “F’ck off, wouldya? This bastard’s not interested.”

The stranger blinks at him. “Sorry,” he smiles politely, even though for every sober eye it’s clear that the expression is forced. “But I don’t think you get much say in that.”

Strahm can see the putty in the guy’s eyes—he’s clearly not intimidated by the detective. The agent entertains himself with this thought… People underestimating Hoffman, even when he’s in that kind of state, is exactly what leads to tragedies later.

Despite his better judgement, he allows himself a small smile, before addressing his companion and therefore effectively cutting off both of the men who are still going at it.

“No need for hostility, darling,” he shoots over his shoulder with no small satisfaction for being able to use that pet name he knows Hoffman absolutely hates (or does he?). Turning back to the stranger, he looks him dead in the eye. “I believe, this man was just about to leave,” he informs.

The guy looks at them both, surprised, before awkwardly stumbling to his feet, apologising and getting as far as he can, as quickly as possible. Strahm briefly wonders whether the stranger thinks himself guilty for misreading the situation but it’s not like he cares enough not to forget about the query right away.

Well, there goes the last bit of tonight’s amusement, then. Although, the outcome turned out way more interesting than the agent would have anticipated.

He turns back to the bar and—simultaneously—to his glass still containing remains of alcohol. He grabs it and holds it up by his lips, as if considering something, before finally making up his mind and finishing the drink.

Here’s to that guy surviving the nearest future, then, he thinks to himself while settling on boring holes in his partner’s profile.

────── ⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧ ──────

A/N: Thank you so much for stopping by! Hope you've enjoyed!

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seosracha · 2 years

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STAR-STRUCK BY U! ✩ nishimura riki.

synopsis! what's a better way to promote a newly debuted group than making one of the members collaborate with your highest charting soloist? a lovey-dovey song will do the trick, right? the thing is, both idols don't necessarily know each other.

pairing! idol!niki x soloist/idol!fem-reader

genre! strangers to lovers, fluff

warnings! niki ipad kid agenda, foul language, sunoo being nosy ASH

word count! 2.5k

authors note! REPOST cause tumbblr was giving me so much shit with this one🤬🤬

“The debut trailer didn’t perform well at all, what was I even expecting from any of you!” Manager Minhyuck exclaimed.

He’s been going at it ever since he saw Enhypen tanking on the Melon charts with Given-Taken. They just sat there listening, not making a sound, afraid Minhyuck might just disband them right there and then.

Niki’s gaze hit the floor tracing cracks in the stone flooring. He felt guilty as the main dancer, and maknae of his team. Memories from I-land devoured him, mind muffling any words that came out of his manager's mouth. Eyes plastered on the shiny finish of the tiles, become watery as he refuses to blink. A tugging heat wave routes its way through his figure. His body, unnoticeably falls behind, harshly hitting the soft comforter of the couch.

“Niki, are you okay?” Jake whispers, his wrought hand unconsciously falling onto the boy's shoulder.

Niki plans to reply, just doesn’t know what exactly he should say to not worry Jake.

“Maybe if you paid more attention to improving your skills instead of helping each other your debut track would be tanking on the charts!” Minhyuck growls, eyes on the two boys who look absolutely clueless.

“Minhyuck, I think that’s enough. They’re still new to this” Seojun asserts calmly. “I’m sure there's a way to promote the boys better. Don’t take this out on them” she adds, smiling at the group in front of her.

In Niki’s eyes Seojun was the better manager. She had her way with words, and held such professionalism even in situations like this.

“Do you hear yourself Seojun? These boys are just lazy, they don’t care if their performance is good cause it’s not them paying the bills!” Minhyuck once again demolishes the soft atmosphere Seojun managed to set. “Aren’t you embarrassed Niki? Kim Y/n is your age and manages to perform better on the charts than any soloist in Korea! If only you weren’t so careless and childish this debut wouldn’t be such a let-down!”

Niki’s heart stings at the words. He was the only member to get scolded individually for something he’s not fully responsible for. It was so unfair.

“Just cause Y/n brings in so much for the company you don’t have to compare her to everyone here, for god's sake they just debuted two days ago! Put her in the group for all I care, just don’t put all the blame on this innocent boy” Seojun said, pointing towards Niki.

Minhyuck went quiet, his mind full of rapid thoughts. Heeseung quietly sighed, hoping the shouting and fighting finally came to its desired ending.

“You know what maybe I will” Minhyuck said softly, Jay was shocked at the sudden change in demeanor “You, Niki, you’ll collab with Y/n”

…

“It feels like the long night will last forever. Every time I'm scared, you cross the dawn with me, to the other side of the moon” Sunghoon silently reads the lyrics, laughing lightly at every line “Not only are they trying to promote Enhypen but get you into a dating scandal I think”

Jungwon rapidly lifts himself from the couch to also get a peek at the lyrics “In the morning everything will disappear like a dream. But I'm fine. It's good that I can protect you, because that's my happiness for you. Wow Niki, you’re such a romantic” Jungwon laughs handing the paper back to Sunghoon.

“Yeah right, I wouldn’t write that if my life depended on it” he murmurs silently, eyes focused on the game of Mario Kart he was playing with Heeseung.

“You’re awfully calm about this. If I were you I’d probably off myself by now” Jay asserts, from the dining room table.

“We can always swap” Niki says “You’re such a cheater Heeseung hyung!” he screams as the older boy beats him to the finish line.

“I’m not going to sing a love song with a minor, are you insane” Jay exclaims “Stop talking anyways, I’m trying to study” he adds scribbling something on his worksheet.

“Forgot you go to school. Loser” Niki laughs, handing the pad to Jake who craves revenge after Heeseung beat him five times in a row last week.

“Yeah some of us want to finish school and get a proper education” Jay mumbles, but Niki still hears his words, laughing slightly.

“When are you meeting her?” Sunoo asks from the chair next to Jay. His eyes don’t lift from the book infront of him, as he tries to solve an algebra equation.

“Y/n? I don’t know” Niki says calmly, this time his gaze on the IPad in his hands.

“Are you seriously playing fill the fridge? God, I don’t wonder why you have no idea about the world around you” Sunghoon says, finally handing the paper back to Niki.

Niki didn’t spare a look at it. He felt so confused, not knowing what to do. He was afraid he might let down his manager again. Niki did all this for fun, he wouldn’t think it’d escalate to the point where he’s practicing in the late hours of the night, small tears falling from his eyes cause he’s just so so tired.

‘Don’t worry Niki, you’ll do amazing” Heeseung said a smile decorating his face”

“I’m not worried”

…

He was here. About to meet you, the most popular soloist in Korea. He’s heard your debut song probably millions of times. He’s seen your face on every billboard in Seoul. He just didn’t pay attention to it, really.

“Hi Niki, it’s great to finally meet you!” a delicate voice wakes him up from the trance of thoughts.

You look so much prettier up close.

“Hi,” he whispers shyly.

You smile at his shyness, finding it incredibly cute.

“You two get to know each other, we’ll set everything up. I’ll call you in when we’re ready to record” Seojun smiles, her hand making a sign of encouragement.

Niki feels as if he’s going to die when he’s left alone with you in the waiting room. He begs you’re at least a little bit less awkward than him in situations like this.

“I loved your debut track, Niki. Wish you got more lines”

His prayers have been heard, thank god.

Niki’s heart courses a steady blood through the canyons of his chest and uneasy stomach, as he wonders if replying with a simple thanks would be enough to keep the conversation going. He didn’t want to seem uninterested.

“You watched the line distribution?” he chuckles lightly, playing with the rings on his fingers to calm his brain from absolutely exploding.

“Is it embarrassing if I did? I’m not a fan I swear” you said, the smile never leaving your face.

“Ouch, that’s mean,” Niki says, his hand on his heart.

You shake your head, and chuckle. The sound of your laugh seems to alleviate any tension in his muscles. He blows out a steady breath. Niki has never felt so comfortable with a girl.

“I mean I am a fan! Just not a crazy one or anything,” you defend yourself.

“I’m a fan of you too, just not a crazy one or anything” Niki smiles, looking at you for the first time you two have sat down on the gray couch.

“I'm used to doing fan service”

Niki pretends to be offended, scooting over to the other side of the L shaped couch.

“Just kidding, I’m glad you like my work. I write a lot of my songs by myself” you say, and Niki moves back to his previous position next to you.

“Did you write these lyrics too?” he asks, pointing to the beaten up piece of paper in his hand.

“No, I wish I did though, I love them” you answer smiling.

Oh. So you actually liked the song.

“I like them too”

…

He had overcome his initial shyness. He spoke to you with a newfound confidence.

It’s been a month. Or two. Niki can’t recall cause time spent with you never felt real to him.

“Do it again oh my god” you say as Niki shows you a part of the Given-Taken choreography.

Everythings been done already. The song has been recorded. The music video has been filmed, and the photoshoots have been completed.

You liked hanging out with Niki. It was so easy to talk to him, and even if you never planned on making friends with the boy, it happened naturally.

“I already showed you this like five times, you do it now” he laughs, and starts playing the track again.

“I can’t, you’re ten times better than me at this stuff” you say with a sweet smile.

Niki feels the coldness of the practice room turn into a warm summer field. His heart climbs, climbs, and climbs until it finally explodes into a flowered array of colorful sparkles. He feels as if his chest is on fire.

“I’m not. If anything it’s Heeseung hyung, he’s like perfect at everything he does, I swear” Niki asserts.

He was never necessarily good at receiving compliments.

“Heeseung is good, great, whatever you say, but he’s not as cute as you,” you smile.

Maybe it was because you’ve been sitting in this practice room, back pressed against the mirror for hours, tired out of your mind or Niki was actually really pretty.

“You think I’m cute?” Niki laughs sitting down next to you. He sighs as his back hits the cool metal, absorbing its coldness.

“Yeah, really cute” you smile, looking into his eyes.

A tingling sensation rushes down Niki’s neck and chest with a dangerous thrill.

He tries to hide the rosy blush erupting on his face, by pretending to wipe the sweat off his forehead.

“I think you’re cute too, really cute” he smiles, but is shocked at how smoothly that came out.

Niki didn’t catch the moment where you two became friends. His far fetched knowledge wasn’t aware two people could bond so easily. The last time he hit it off with someone so easily was with Sunoo, in the terrifying reality of I-land. Some things as simple as this made him question himself.

But sometimes he thought maybe you two could be more than just friends.

…

“You like her, I know you do!” Sunoo exclaimed, jumping around Niki’s figure to prevent him from running away.

Was he really THAT obvious?

“I don’t. Leave me alone Sunoo!” Niki said, flopping down onto the couch.

“What happened to ‘Sunoo hyung’” Sunoo pouted and sat tiredly on the armchair.

“He died”

“I’m not dead”

“Well you will be if you don’t stop annoying me. Y/n is just a friend, we had to get close for all of this to work” Niki said, pulling out his IPad.

“Riki there's nothing wrong with having feelings for her. You know we can all tell right?” he explained, softly.

Niki shook his head, and opened his favorite game, Fill The Fridge.

“I think Y/n is a really nice girl, I can tell she likes you a lot. Stop being so stubborn, Riki” he voices, not letting Niki speak on his last statement.

“She doesn’t like me that way, Sunoo. I don't want to be rejected ” Niki mumbles.

“So you do like her! I knew it!” he exclaimed, and the younger boy just rolls his eyes.

“You’re so annoying. I’m going to the toilet” Niki replies, and leaves the IPad on the couch.

Sunoo grabs the device, leaving the game Riki was playing. He was surprised at how many other unnecessary apps he has. When the IMessage app comes into Sunoo’s view he doesn't think twice before pressing it.

“Do they really talk about things like this?” Sunoo scoffs, as the tik tok links and cat pictures pop up on the chat “Niki has never sent this many messages in our group chat”

He doesn’t care if Niki will hate him after this, or if this will cost him their friendship, cause he knows these oblivious idiots would never confess to each other by themselves.

As the sound of the toilet flushing hits Sunoo’s ears he quickly mutes notifications from you and exits the messaging app, returning to Niki’s previously opened game.

hey y/n

i really hope this doesn’t ruin our friendship, since I look up to u A LOT

but i like you. not as a friend.

…

Niki dressed up nicely today. He did his hair, and put on his most expensive perfume. He didn’t know exactly why he did it. Maybe he was trying to impress you.

He skidded over to your usual spot, the smaller practice room that no one really cared to visit. There he saw you, sat in the corner of the room, phone in hand.

“Niki, I’m sorry for not responding” you say before he even got a chance to say ‘hi’. “I just think it’s better if I said this in person.

“I’m confused,” Niki mumbled, slowly walking towards you. He sat down in front of you and waited for you to elaborate.

“Your confession was very… simple, but I guess I’ll keep it simple too. I like you Niki, more than a friend” you let out a shaky breath.

“Wait, wait what confession?” Niki said, but regretted it the moment he fully processed what you just said to him.

You liked him back?

“The text you sent me yesterday?” you answered, showing him the chat from the previous night. “Oh it was a joke right? I’m sorry, please forget everything that just happened” you said with an awkward smile, still avoiding eye contact.

“No no, wait. I didn’t send that text but I do like you! I like you so much Y/n” this was the first time you looked him in the eyes during the whole conversation.

“You do? You’re not joking, please tell me this isn’t one of your stupid pranks” you asked happily.

“Will this be enough to prove it?” he said before connecting the two of you in a sweet, chaste kiss.

His lips were soft and tasted like watermelon chapstick, the one you gave him.

“That’s so cringe. Do it again”

…

The fans wondered how you two connected so naturally on stage. How you two could sing such a lovey-dovey song without feeling awkward. How you could hug like you’ve known each other for years now.

Maybe, just maybe that encouragement and support led you here, two years into your annoying relationship, at least to everyone around you.

“God I looked so ugly in that outfit” Niki made a disgusted face.

His head lied firmly on your lap, your fingers softly playing with his black hair. It wasn’t as soft as it used to be, but as long as he asked you to do so, you would.

“You didn’t! You looked super cute. My outfit is the ugly one” you hummed, making a braid out of one of the longer strands.

“No it isn’t! Mine is ten times worse!” he argued.

This argument probably went on for hours, cause Niki would never let you say one bad thing about yourself.

He was oh so star-struck by you.

perm taglist! @bubblytaetae @qghosty @viagumi @artstaeh @bigtoewinwin @strwberrydinosaur @enhacolor @rendezrei @shinsou-rii

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brennenscolby · 1 year

Text

Officer and I [Chapter two]: Surprises await

• Summary: Following the Arklay murders, a handful of similar incidents arise across Raccoon City. All the while, a handsome police officer meets a recently promoted detective. Can their combined efforts put an end to an impending doom?

• Warnings + content + genres: Mentions of blood & gore, [trigger warning] Violence, Weaponry, [Smut], Consensual sex, fluff, self-insert, crime & mystery, Horror, Romance, Angst, Hurt & Comfort.

• Pairings: Leon S. Kennedy (Police Officer!) x (Female) Reader (Detective!)

A/N: text is written in white, dark mode works best when reading.

Wc: 1.5k

Playlist:

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As you closed the door to the west office, a hand reached for your shoulder, giving it a slight pat before you could react, “Detective (L/N)”, You turned around, curious at the tone, before straightening up once you saw the familiar man,

“Lieutenant Marvin!”

“We’ve been over this”, he grimaced, expressing distaste for the honorific you often used, despite his best efforts to tell you otherwise. You chuckled, the apples of your cheeks churning in shade from your widened smile in addition to the feeling of the sun’s rays from the rectangular window overlooking the city. “Is there anything I can help you with?”, you questioned, raking your brain for any responsibility you might've missed on the way in.

“Fortunately for you, nothing as of right now. Just came to remind you. The rookie’s coming in soon”, you nodded.

“Knowing how good of a cop you were, I wanted this final assignment to leave an impression on you. So don’t fail me now.”, you looked at him intently, so utterly hard that you could almost see the remnants of admiration and sorrow swimming in his eyes. It was safe to say he’d missed you.

“In case you get side-tracked, I’ve listed every single duty on file, right on your new desk. With that, I’ll leave you to it. Wish you luck on your endeavors.”

“Lieutenant-”, you held out a hand to pause his departure, smiling desperately after seeing his faltering, stoic facade. He stopped, looking at you expectantly,

“You say that like I won’t be under your command anymore. I have a week left y’know. Appreciate me until then”, you winked, lips curling into a smile. In all honesty, you wished Marvin were less stressed about the ongoing situation. You could see through his hard exterior and it was clear he was holding his emotions back. Maybe he didn’t want to talk about it now, but something in the way he spoke to you this time around let you know that he’d grown so attached to you. The older male relaxed, stifling a soft chuckle before retreating from the pathway, “You’re right, detective. That reminds me, now that you mention it, I think I’ll add on another assignment for good measure”, shock washed over you as you quickly shook your head, earning another chuckle from the man who looked at you fondly, “Take care rookie”, he gently brushed passed.

“I’m not a rookie anymore!”, you huffed childishly as you turned, only for him to be nowhere near. Placing a hand on your perspirated forehead, you stifled a dry laugh, before moving from the walkway, and in the direction of the six desks seated in the middle of the office. You looked at the empty seats for a second, immediately noting that your team had an early start.

You withdrew focus from the notion, citing the fact that numerous riots have been occurring across the city. They probably had to go manage them. The reason for those occurrences has yet to be identified but rumors have been referencing some sort of secret organization that has been contributing to foul play through human experimentation. Even so, the police force has yet to comment on it, as they have yet to find any indication of said company.

While you never intended to make such things your everyday norm as a police officer, you often waited for your lieutenant's word as that's what you trusted best. And as of right now, he wanted you least concerned with it. However, even without a lack of bodies from your squad that usually invaded the room, something ultimately still felt off. Aside from the riots and rumors going on, perhaps, it was the details of your impending absence. Upon approaching the first workspace located between the rest, you grew glum, a frown making its way onto your lips.

Your old desk…

Your fingers drummed over it as you thought back silently to the many assignments you’ve had to do there. You hated to admit it, but while you had the most atrocious and traumatic experiences there, you also had pleasant ones.

Drawing closer to the area where your old name tag would’ve been, you spotted the new one. Bold, golden, letters contrasted against the black band that wrapped around the rectangular holder. Your anguish quickly dissipated, replaced by curiosity,

“Leon S. Kennedy”

So that was the new rookie’s name, huh?

You repeated it in your head, curious as to how it’d sound rolling off your tongue despite previously catching the first half of his name in your final group meeting with the lieutenant. The sun’s glint on the desk forced you to set the nameplate down as a new thing derived your attention.

You picked the neatly folded paper up from the center of the desk, taking a few minutes to read it, before setting it down.

What a cute assignment for a rookie. Easy work and it sounded like an icebreaker a high school teacher would’ve used. You found amusement in the idea that the Lieutenant concocted for the new member of the police force.

‘At least he tried’, you chuckled, thinking back to the goofy assignment Marvin first gave you. Knowing how hectic the next few days would be, you knew the new officer wouldn’t get to lay eyes on the paper until the end of the week at best.

He’d be stuck with you for the most part.

A gust of wind rolled over you, as a selective few of your colleagues came rushing in, paving the way to a loud and rowdy desk area,

“Hey guys”, you smiled, watching as Rita hurriedly climbed up on her wooden table with glittery alphabetical banners in hand. Elliot groaned lazily before shortly following suit. You proceeded to watch the two bicker for a hot minute before they snapped their heads to you in a quick manner,

“Oh! Heya, (Y/N)!”, Rita greeted, grabbing a piece of flimsy scotch tape from the side of her wrist,

“Don't mind us, we’re just-, we’re just,”

“Finishing some last-minute decorations?”

“Pretty much”, The female grabbed her police vector, tugging it down just a smudge to hide the embarrassment on her face.

“Hey you”, Elliot remarked, the exasperated look in his eyes leaving you confused as he handed you a pile of supplies, “Now that you’re here, do you mind helping Rita finish the decorations? Yeah? Please? Thanks”, he squeezed your shoulder before jogging in the direction of the doorway. You stood, dumbfounded before looking at the blonde in question, “He was tired of helping me. Said I was apparently too pushy and he wanted to do some real police work ”, she sighed, mumbling something about a “fuckin prick”.

“I heard that”, came audibly from across the room. You chuckled at them before sluggishly planting a firm foot on a desk and tugging your body on top. Rita smirked, giving you the end of the alphabetical banner she held,

“Sometimes, hard work isn’t police work.”

You nodded, “Especially when it pertains to throwing a surprise celebration in a police station."

You both chuckled. Although you expected the surprise celebration to be a difficult occasion to gain approval for by the likes of Marvin, it surprisingly wasn’t. Perhaps because it wasn't very often the lieutenant inducted a new officer. With what had been going on for the past few months, nobody wanted to work in Raccoon city. The violence often overwhelmed people. Especially when it contributed to death. It was too much of a burden for them or their family. Under that exact circumstance, you began to accept that perhaps you could see where Marvin was coming from when he decided to let the squad he commanded do this. The two of you tapped up the edges of the banner, with it finally and clearly reading, ‘Welcome Leon’. Rita helped you settle down carefully in your chair, shortly seating herself as well,

“Thanks for helping me, I know you have your own things to do”, she motioned towards your office, which sat directly to the right of the room. “Nah, it’s fine”, you waved a hand dismissively, “Might as well help set up the celebration since I’ll be the one showing him around”,

Rita smiled wolfishly, “Oh yeah, I forgot. Way to go robocop”.

“I try, I try”, you shrugged, laughing in the end. You both quieted down, eyes glancing over the time before hurriedly moving across the room. Work didn’t start until 8:30 am for either of you, but today, you were asked to come in early for the sake of the newbie.

“As much as I’d love to stay and chat, we should probably get to crackin.",

“Agreed. Lieutenant told me I could get started on my first assignment while I wait for the rook- eh, Leon.”, she eyed you suspiciously, sensing your particular avoidance towards his name. She began to nod slowly, “I see. well then, I salute you detective. Have a good rest of your day. It’s been a pleasure working with you”, she smiled solemnly, trying her best to keep her emotions at bay despite wanting to ball her eyes out in the work environment,

“Thank you, Rita. It’s been a pleasure working with you too." you grabbed her hand, giving it a squeeze before standing. "Take care of the boys for me, will Ya?”, you gathered up a few pens and pencils from a cup on your desk, leaving some for your new friend while grabbing a few for yourself,

“Considering the fact that I’m officially the only female. It’s a definite yes”, she confirmed, grabbing at the stray supplies scattered across the workstation. Taking a moment to wash away the sadness of your old job, you took a deep breath before walking across the room and looking at your brand-new office space. The greyish-blue colors of the west office curved around the walls framing your cubic space, leaving just enough space for the three square windows right above your sitting space. The interior looked nice and neat, a big brown desk old with age, but brand new with purpose. Just as you move to hanker down and pop open one of the numerous files on your desk, the chatter from the west office rose in volume, spiking your curiosity,

“Welcome Leon! Nice to meet you!”

{Taglist!}: @hnyc0mb @holyhumorliteraturelight @trinswhimsys @xxsealitwithakissxx @zombies-man @bigjuicythotass @xbluegracex @juanasspirit

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#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #residentevil 2 #re2 remake #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy smut #re2 #leon scott kennedy #claire redfield x reader #claire redfield

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doodle-pops · 2 years

Text

A Bond That Keeps Us

Eonwe x reader

Kinktober 2022: Breeding Kink

A/N: I have been recently obsessed with the idea of Eonwe having Avian traits which are obviously shown in this fic. Heads up on the overly long plot before the smut.

Warnings: fembod, breeding/impregnation kink (the entire fic is about breeding; it’s heavy), pinning, manhandling, predatory instincts, heat, mating ritual, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, passing out, knotting, cockwarming

Word Count: 8.1k

Synopsis: Eonwe's usual request to travel south during springtime was rejected leaving him with no other choice but to avoid you. Terrified of having you learn the truth, the Elder King wasn't having any of his behaviour and decided to intervene on your behalf.

You noticed the change in his behaviour the moment he returned from one of his meetings with his Lord Manwe. There was a foul stench in the atmosphere as his presence ghosted through the doors and flew up the staircase into his room. It was unusual given that he’d always walk directly to your form, no matter where you were sitting, and bring you in for a hug encasing his ethereal white wings around you both to form a cocoon before rubbing noses against each other to bring you in for the gentlest kiss. His lips always felt like kissing clouds, not quite there but tender and soft, before he deepened it as he lifted you off the surface your body was perched upon. But not today, or tomorrow, or the day after – Eonwe had dematerialised from your sight without granting you some form of a hint of his whereabouts.

It wasn’t exactly strange behaviour from him, you understood there were times when the boisterous and exuberant herald of the King of the Valar suffered his mood swings and refused to be within your personal spacings to tarnish your high-spirited aura. He would make himself vanish from your sight until you stumble upon him in the highest room of the palace, perched on the railings with his wings ruffled to signify he wasn’t pleasant. There were times when his mood was caused by his Lord's directive orders that would keep him away from you for months. In the beginning, Eonwe had never found the separation heart-wrenching as you would describe it, but in the later years, as time flew and physical affections were introduced, Eonwe took his words back in a heartbeat. He would cling to you for dear life whenever he returned from trips complaining about never leaving your side for so long ever again.

Could it be that his Lord gave him a directive order that had him sulking? You didn’t bother him for three days despite wanting to break down his doors and demand to know the cause of his mood, instead, you left him alone constantly staring at his door as you return to yours every night. There weren’t any signs of him on the grounds or with Thorondor or even with Illmare. He was nowhere to be seen flying high above and throwing flower petals from the sky as he once saw in a play – he was determined to re-enact that sequence with you. As the days turned into a week, you were considering his lack of appearance to be him disappearing on one of his missions and just refusing to inform you because of his displeasure.

Sitting near the fountains of the palace grounds, your back was pressed against the bark of the cherry blossoms to ease the coldness of the spring breeze. Their petals fell everywhere around you, and your hands made quick work to gather them into your lap as you busied yourself with making another floral realistic artwork. Placing all your focus into lining the petals onto the board, your thoughts were broken by the angelic voice of your lover’s Lord, Manwe. Lifting your head to follow the sound, you observed as he stepped out of the shade and into Arien’s rays, blinding your eyes as her light enhanced the whites and blues he wore.

“Little one, why do you appear sullen?” his voice was as gentle as soft rose petals that trailed upon your skin as he spoke. His words were companied by a concerned smile which overshadowed a teasing smile as if he knew why you were upset.

Scrambling in the most unfashionable manner, you dropped your artwork and bowed before the Lord of the Airs and greeted him with much enthusiasm you were able to muster, “My Lord, forgive for appearing displeased. I was just…thinking.”

You ended your response with a nod as though you were reassuring yourself instead of your Lord, but Manwe was able to see through your façade and knew that it was Eonwe troubling your soul. After all, it was he who had the final say in his herald’s current mission and knew that Eonwe was not entirely pleased with his Lord’s decision. Knowing his herald, the poor bird hadn’t informed you on anything and left to bubble in his displeasure. Offering you a smile, Manwe raised his hand to alert you that you should not have to apologize for your sullen mood.

“Little one, there is no need for you to apologize for your down aura, everyone is allowed to be sad at a time in their life.”

“I know my Lord, but it does not – it’s just…it’s Eonwe.” You weren’t going to make mention of him to his Lord, but he was on your mind and the lack of knowledge was bothering. Perhaps if you were to inquire with his Lord, some information might be dispelled, and your gloomy mood would lift. Keeping your head cast downwards, you twiddled with your fingers and bit your lip as you awaited Manwe’s response, hoping that you did not anger him. The wind was still blowing gingerly, with no increase in its pace thus it was safe to say that he was still in a responsive and pleasant mood.

“My herald? My herald done something to make you tremendously upset? Not something he would do – come.” He opened his arms at the end of his response, allowing his robes to lift from the ground and widened as he spoke. One hand reached outwards and waited for your smaller ones to rest within his so he could guide you to an answer.

Leaving your artwork behind, you walked alongside Manwe as his hand held yours and he guided you through the halls. You both passed numerous rooms as he took you to the far west wing of the palace, the half with the empty rooms which served no purpose besides collecting dust. You didn’t understand where he was taking you, maybe to sit and have tea with him and talk your problems out – he once did so when you and Eonwe experienced your first argument. However, the elegant King flew over the ground and eased you along with him through grand ballrooms and staircases and past many corridors until he stopped at the end of the hallway that lead to one door in the end.

“He is in there, but I must inform you, he is not the same as you knew him to be.” Looking at you as he spoke, there was a musical chuckle at the end when your face contorted into pure confusion.

“I-I don’t understand what you mean my Lord. What do you mean by ‘he is not the same as I knew him to be’? Had something happened to him?”

“Yes, something did happen to him, and I administered him a cure, however, he refuses to acknowledge my help.”

A gasp had escaped your mouth as you stared horrified at Manwe and then cast your head to Eonwe’s door. Immediately, your body moved to cover the distance to approach his room before Manwe’s voice rang out again, “I must urge you to proceed with caution. This is no ordinary condition he has obtained, though, it is one commonly found among birds.”

“Birds?” you puzzled, only to be ignored by Manwe as he simply casted a mischievous smile.

Dipping his head to express his departure, Manwe waved his hand out to you and retreated down the halls from where you came. Staring at his departing figure, your brain was hurting from the bare minimal information that your Lord had provided – nothing made sense. There were times he would speak and even your lover had complained about his lack of coherent speeches; almost every phrase that slipped past his lip was a parable. Your hands had risen to rub at your temples at the oncoming pain the more you attempted to unscramble his parables, but when you realized at you weren’t going to get anywhere, your body turned to face Eonwe’s door and bound towards it.

Your palms were sweaty, and your body was trembling, not from nervousness but out of fear of his condition. What if you couldn’t get him to take the cure, that meant he would die, and you refused to let that happen? Taking a deep breath from your stomach, you exhaled and lifted your right hand to knock thrice, calling out to him while your left was twisting the doorknob and pushing the door open. What you saw when your head peeked through the crack was beyond bewildering – the room was a mess. Feathers were strewn across the floors, the sofas were overturned, and all dragged to the corner of the room where the floor-length windows were wide opened, and sheets were thrown over the sofas and some scattered on the floor. The room appeared as though a storm had ripped through the peaceful ambience and torn it apart with violent intentions.

Shutting the door with a soft click, your light pitter-patter of footsteps was silence across the room but not for your lover who sat perched on the opposite end, hidden from your line of sight and watched in great desire as you presented yourself for his taking. There were large feathers among the miniatured-sized ones that spoke volumes – they were Eonwe’s feathers. Was he shedding, though you don’t recall him shedding his feathers this time of the year since you would help care for them as an act of affection as his mate? Your footsteps ceased their motion when you came to stand directly before what seemed to be a makeshift bed. Now that you were up close, you noticed pillows were lined around the sides, almost as if it was encasing the warmth. It reminded you of the forts you would build with him during thunderstorms.

“You reek of him?”

Jumping out of your skin, the deep voice that most certainly did not belong to your lover echoed behind you from the dark. Turning your head first, your body following after, your eyes fell upon the darkened portion of the room and were only able to make out the faint outline of a figure sitting on a high piece of furniture – Eonwe. Ushering to move closer, his voice rang out again, this time, stopping you in your tracks completely.

“Stay where you are, do not come closer for your safety.” His voice was like honey as he spoke, and it stirred your insides. You didn’t know his voice could have gone that deep.

“E-Eonwe, my sweet songbird, what is going on? Why is the room like this? Why are you hiding from me? Have…Have I made you upset?” at the last question, his eyes widened at the hurt in your voice. His intentions were to never hurt you, only to keep you safe from his turmoil. He knew you would be scared for life if ever you found out about his condition, and so, he kept his distance. But when he smelt you down the corridor coming his way, his bird brain kicked into overdrive and forced him to create this masterpiece in hopes of impressing his mate. Everything had to be perfect for you to accept should he succeed in with his plan, there was no mistake in you denying.

It was an immense struggle for him to focus and think straight with you standing less than eight feet away. It was easy for him to swoop in and throw you onto the bed, ravishing you and curing his condition, but he didn’t want to suffer the backlash, it would scar him for life.

“I’m…unwell.”

“I know this, your Lord Manwe informed me that you refused to take a cure. Why? Don’t you want to become better; you could die?”

“Oh, my sweet little dove. My sweet little confused dove…” he drifted off into tantalizing laughter. You were so innocent of the changes in his behaviour that you forgot he had multiple bird-like tendencies and the most important one. The question on his mind was to either break the truth to you or let you discover on your own. The longer you stayed, your scent permeated the room soaking every fabric and filling his senses with honeysuckle. He could feel his chest reverberating as he anticipated your moves, wanting to bury his nose in every crack and crevice.

“Eonwe, just please tell me what’s going on.” you cried with great fear in your voice because he was taking it for a joke.

Continuing to chuckle, his bird side enjoyed toying with you like predator and prey. You were absolutely divine and delicious; how could he not play with his meal, “You…You know that I’m a bird right?”

“…yes.”

“And that I have bird-like traits and behaviour?”

“Where are you going with his?”

“I’m a bird darling, I do everything a bird does. From singing and dancing to attract you, puffing my feathers up to…spring. What do birds in spring?”

Cocking your head to the side in confusion, you understood that he had numerous bird-like traits but were not entirely sure what he was getting at. Yes, he sang and brought you colourful stones and items he found while flying as gifts and he gets jealous whenever other birds are flocking to you, but what was so special about spring? What did spring and birds have so greatly in common? “Don't you all return from migration after winter and build homes and such?”

“Yes, but not exactly, we…ugh…how do I put this dove. Fuck. We fuck during springtime and like a bird, I experience my heat and the urge to mate with you since you are my mate. However, it has never come on like this…it’s stronger than before. Maybe it’s because I’ve been ignoring it…” Eonwe wanted to flop after having to tediously explain his natural phenomenon to you. This could have been avoided had his Lord just allowed him to make his usual trip every year, but no, the Elder King just had to intervene and force him to stop running.

Your cheeks were flushed with fever as your lover spoke about what he wanted to do to you every spring. You were his mate and he wanted to seal the bond with you once and for all. To lock you together until the end of time, for eternity. You found it sweet and endearing that he desired you but was upset about him not coming forth.

“You’ve been ignoring your heat...for years? All those times you've disappeared during spring... was because of your heat. Why didn’t you just tell me you needed to mate instead of running away Eonwe, I would have helped – wait, the cure and the condition that Lord Manwe spoke of was…”

“Yes dove, you’re the cure to my condition. If I mate with you, the pain will subdue until my heat wears off.”

“How long?”

Did you really want to know just how long he was going into heat? “How long do I disappear during spring?”

Widening your eyes in horror at the dawn of the time frame, you were setting yourself up if you really and truly wished to provide assistance to your bird lover, “Like a whole month.”

“Not exactly, I just stay away for that long for extra security, but it’s for two weeks. So far, a week has passed and…I’ve been alone dealing with it…” you could hear the rise in his breathing as his words trailed off. He was struggling to maintain his composure because he’d been fucking his hand for over a week to reduce the fire raging within but for the worse reason, it wasn’t sedating his hunger; he needed you to out the fire.

“T-Two weeks! You spend two weeks alone when you could have asked me for help Eonwe. I would have done something instead of letting you torture yourself.” Your voice quivered at the realization of his suffering himself to sedate his heat in the most unnatural manner.

“It’s – It’s not as easy as you make it out to be little birdie, it’s much worse. Just two weeks – two weeks of me fucking yo – me fucking and wanting to mate, breed.” His voice was growing ragged and he was losing his consciousness the longer he sat there explaining himself. You were wide open for him to snatch and ravish and he wasn’t happy with just talking, he wanted to be fucking and filling you up.

“Oh – huh w-wait, breed as in children? You want to have a family?” you asked with a bit of hope and fear in your voice. You and Eonwe had been together for five years and you were patiently waiting for him to advance with marriage and perhaps children. If this was his way of indirectly stating that he wanted, then you’d be happy to oblige.

“W-Well not exactly – err yes, in a sense but not as well…it’s just my body’s natural urge, to breed you in hopes of conceiving.”

Twiddling with your thumbs as the conversation diminished, you found yourself being turned on by the idea of being bred until you had conceived. The thought prompted you to nervously cast your eyes on Eonwe’s figure hoping that he was able to read the signs you conveyed, and he did. Your pheromones were a beacon to his following movements and mixed with your arousal was the unmistakable scent of another male. His chest reverberated with a growl of dissatisfaction and possessiveness. Eonwe’s possessiveness wanted him to not just bred you for the sake of breeding, but to erase the scent of the other male, so they would know their place.

Staring at you with slithered eyes, from where you stood his eyes appeared predatory as if he was planning his next move with precision and accuracy. Your question pushed his mind into convincing him that you wanted to mate, you wanted him to breed you till you were filled with his cum until you couldn’t take anymore. Feeling himself grow in excitement, he flew off the furniture and landed with grace, keeping his wings expanded as an act of his mating ritual – to make himself appear bigger and charming to lure you into him. Stepping out of the shadows and stalking over to you, your gasp reached his ear knowing that his little mate was impressed with his physique and features. Following up, the faint scent of your arousal was waffling through the air the longer you stared at his naked form.

Eonwe stood taller and stockier than previously, and his feathers glistened in the light. Shining in hues of silver, starting with white at the edges and growing darker as they neared his spine, they were puffier and larger. He appeared to your eyes as a feral wild bird – his tamed and well-kept hair was bed-ragged, and his electric eyes were a raging storm. His breathing was heavy-burdened and laborious as little fragments of Eonwe were still holding back from scaring you. Your eyes roamed his body in exquisite delight, taking in the changes in the noticeable aspects you were familiar with, except his cock. It dangled between his leg as if it were a third leg and his balls were heavy and filled with his seed. You had never seen his cock before so you couldn’t give a before and after comparison but all you knew was that it must have grown in size with his urge to mate.

“Have I impressed you mate of mine?” his voice pulled your eyes away from his cock with an obvious smirk at the edges.

“Hmph.”

Stepping closer, he was able to breathe in your arousal as it permeated the air; it was sweet and rich with want and need to be bred to perfection. Your womb was calling out to him to fill you up until you couldn’t move, to milk his cock and empty him for all that he was worth and Eonwe was more than happy to oblige. If his mate wanted his seed, he’d give it. Lifting a hand to brush your hair away from your neck, he felt the heat radiating from your body and the little trembles. He wanted to lean in and taste your skin, but he still had some control over what little remnants of his consciousness remained. He wanted to hear you give the order that he could have you to himself.

“Do you like the nest I made for us?” his eyes darted over to the makeshift bed he was planning to mate with you on.

“Nest?” at your reply, you saw how his wings deflated at the tone of voice you used. It was as if you had rejected his offer to mate with him, which was exactly what he presumed.

“I-It reminds me of the forts we would build during storms. I like it.” Giving a little chuckle that signifies you found it cute to get him to smile, his response was a series of light chirping and the flutter of his wings. You had never heard him chirp before, this was new from him, and you were guessing that it only came out during heat.

Returning your gaze onto him to already meet his eyes boring into your body, roaming over every covered hip and dip, you continued to gaze at his cock. It appeared painfully hard and in need of being put out of misery and you knew he was going to fuck you with it. You were hoping that it would fit because it looked far bigger than what you knew the size of the male genitals should appear like. Sizing it up, your insides were stirring and tickling at the idea of his cock being nestled deep within your womb, filling you up with his seed. The little fuzzy sensation growing between your legs urged you to shift on your feet to subdue the pain and it was your actions that caught Eonwe’s eyes along with the rise in arousal.

“I’m going to mate with you now…” you could hear the lighter tone of voice telling you that Eonwe was still around and fighting to prevent going feral on you, but it was what you would want.

Still fighting with his inner self, it won for a moment and caused Eonwe to waste no time in lifting his hands to the front of your dress and tearing it perfectly in half, shredding the garment. His hands eagerly tore the rest of your body as he struggled to remove it and wandered to the waistband of your underwear and did the same. Flinging the flimsy material across the room and complaining about the unnecessary need for clothes when you’re in his presence, his arms came from under and threw you over his shoulder as he strolled over to the bed. Dropping you onto the sheets, you realized that there were multiple mattresses resting on the joint sofas to make your coupling more pleasurable and comfortable. Your body bounced in great delight before Eonwe snatched your legs and tugged you down to the edge, knocking the wind out your chest before pushing your legs wide apart.

His movements were animalistic and feral, there was no gentleness or affection behind his touch, it was all with the urge to breed. Pushing your legs wide apart and into your chest, he was calculating how to go about his next moves. He could tell you were unblemished as he stared at your soft and delightful pink petals and diving in would bring you great pain given his new size. Holding your legs and pushing them further into your chest, you scrambled to find your grip in the sheets as he lifted your lower body into the air to meet his hot tongue. Squeals erupted from your lips as his warm tongue lapped up your essences like a thirsty dog drinking water for the first time in years. His tongue ran up and down your cunt, pressing long flicks into your clit to get you to produce more juices for him to consume. Eonwe’s face was buried in your cunt and stained with your arousal across his cheeks and chin.

He was wordlessly devouring your cunt, switching between long flicks to short rapid-paced flicks that made you convulsed in his hold. Your eyes rolled back into your head when his pacing changed dramatically. His tongue danced around your clit, his mouth clapped down on the entire bud and gave it the suck of a lifetime as though it were a pacifier. Shaking his head left and right and sucking away, you could openly testify and say that this was the best oral you were to ever receive in your life. His tongue was sending you into a frenzy and he was eating it up. All the noises you made, urged your mate to continue pleasuring you as he was. That was his second major concern, being able to satisfy you beyond your wildest dream.

“Ah, Eonwe – ngghh – fuck.” Your squeals were cut off when his lips released your clit and dragged themselves lower to dip his tongue into your entrance to collect all the juices you had stored in you still. He was going to drain you dry.

Hardening his tongue, he thrust the wet muscle into your cunt with vigour, wiggling it around once it was buried to listen to your gasps and cries of his name. The more sounds you made, the heavier his balls became with seed to breed you. It was becoming painfully heavy, and he had to release at least thrice before there was some sense of relief, but you came first, he had to deal with your situation at hand so you could take him with ease. Calculating his sequence of actions, he pushed his face even deeper into your cunt, taking in your scent and growling and grunting against it – you didn’t smell like anyone else. He was rutting his hips into the bed as his mouth was busy with sucking the life out of you, desperate the gain satisfaction, but he knew it was incomparable to the warmth his mate’s cunt would provide.

Images of his cock sinking into your tight, cunt and filling your womb until your child-bearing hips were widened to accommodate his child flashed vividly across his mind. All he wanted to breed you till you gave him a child; it was all his feral bird brain was chanting for him to achieve – not to let you leave his bed until he was sure you were caring his child. You were completely lost in ecstasy to understand the full purpose of his actions; it wasn’t to relieve his pain, but Eonwe would let your thoughts run wild until he was pounding away into your womb.

Feeling the fire in the pit of your abdomen growing wildly and spreading across your body, consuming you until nothing was left, Eonwe refused to let up his actions and tongue-fucked you through your orgasm and into another one, sending you into oversensitivity. Your legs were fighting in his grip to break free, but his grasp was firm and left floral indents on the fat of your thighs. Your back had bowed off the bed multiple times, and you were surprised that it wasn't broken from the onslaughter your feral lover was gifting you. No amount of cries of his name or pleas for him to ease up was enough to get him to pull away, he was doing so when he believed enough was enough.

Listening to the disgustingly pleasant sounds of him eating away at your cunt, you heard the unmistakable flaps of his wings as they stretched out, his plumes glistening in the golden sunset and casting a shadow over you. It stayed outstretched, trembling and fluttering as ripples of iridescent silver and gold danced across his large feathers. You were confused by what had taken place that would cause that reaction and your curiosity was rewarded when Eonwe finally decided to release your cunt from the restraints of his mouth and stood to tower above. Standing at the foot of the bed, his chest heaved as your juices dripped from his chin and fell onto the bed. A quick lick of his lips and his tongue lapped up all your juices, refusing to waste a drop. Panting just as tiredly as him, your eyes trailed lower and lower until you saw a white creamy substance coating his cock – he came while eating you out. Having a moment of revelation as you observed the condition of his cock, you became aware of what caused his wings to react the way they had.

Forcibly lifting your body off the bed to meet him, he crawled onto the bed and pushed you down with a firm shove, keeping his hand resting on your chest and growling. You thought he was threatening you, but his mating instincts assumed you were about to leave the nest he built for you both. He wasn’t fond of you leaving when he hadn’t even started.

“You’re not going anywhere until I say you can,” his electric blue eyes that you adore gazing into were gone and all that bored into yours were the depths of thunderous storms, “and we’re far from finished little dove. Your cunt needs to be filled with my seed.”

Running his hand down your chest to rest on your hips, he dug his fingers into them and flipped you over to lie on your stomach repositioning his hand on your back to keep you still. From where you lay, you could see the golden sunset casting its streaks of orange and golden rays across the sky and some filtering through the opened window to illuminate the spacious room. Those that fell into the room landed on your lover who towered behind you with his wingspan extended, enacting some sign of dominance, but to you it made him appear angelic – like some transcendent being. The shadow cast from his wings fell perfectly onto your figure and gave the impression of you have shadowed wings, compared to his light-coloured one.

As his hands press into your back, pushing you into the mattress, Eonwe raked his other hand from your waist down to your calves, running his nails that were practically talons across your skin. He was careful to not scratch you or draw blood because it was the last thing he wanted to do to his mate during his heat. Dragging his talons across your skin and watching with slanted eyes how you squirmed under his touch, he brought his left hand up to graze his nails over your heat. Just brushing the tip of his nails against your cunt made your body jerk in under his restraints from oversensitivity. Bringing a finger to your entrance, he retracted his nails as they dipped past your folds and slipped into your cunt, pushing his thick calloused finger deeper with every squeal you released. He didn’t thrust it or wiggle, he simply kept it there to bask in the pulsing sensation your walls emanated around his finger, using it as a tactic to make his balls grow even heavier than before to keep you in bed longer.

Once he was sure you were ready, ignoring the whimpering you released, he climbed onto the bed and sat between your legs with cock in hand and ran it up and down your folds. He was furiously biting his lips hard enough to draw blood and did when he leaned down to press his weight atop yours and sunk you into the mattress. His larger and much bulkier body lay atop yours, breathing in your scent as his nose nuzzled your neck and left bite marks across your skin. You had dropped your head into the mattress to suppress a moan when his hips shifted and his bulbous cock rubbed against your cunt, but Eonwe was quicker. He refused to let you hide your sounds of pleasure from him and bound a hand into your hair, tangling your strands into a chaotic bunch and tugging your head upwards for you to release your melodious mewls.

“Why hide your pretty noises from me dove? Don’t you know your mate wants to hear them? I want you to sing for me dove…loudly. Let everyone know that your mate was taking care of you well.” Whispering his seductive words into your ear, Eonwe’s other hand had wedged itself between you both to slip his cock into your soaked cunt.

The heavy silence echoed throughout the room as you both held your breaths when his cock slipped past your tight muscles, breaching your walls and opening you up further and further the more his cock travelled deeper. Your cunt contracted and relaxed around him in an attempt to adjust to his massive size, but no matter how much your walls fluttered around him, his cock was just overly large for your virgin cunt to handle. Eonwe wasn’t even completely buried, just a few inches in and your cunt was already stuffed, should he push the rest of himself in, he’d tear you in half, and he was desperate to completely fit. Clutching your hips and digging his talons into your flesh as he ground his teeth from the fluttering of your walls and twitching of your hips, Eonwe resounded a deep growl from his chest and it echoed off the walls, stopping you in your tracks.

His wings were constantly flapping as they felt the immense pleasure he was experiencing and slightly lifted his body off the bed causing his cock to slide out your heat. The loud whine that was emitted from your throat at the loss of his warmth made Eonwe’s hands scramble to pull your body off the bed to swallow his cock once more. He knelt behind you with your ass propped in the air by his hands and your upper half planted into the mattress face down. Biting back a hiss as he dragged his hips back to watch how your lips gripped his cock, Eonwe never thought that he would be blessed with such a magnificent sight. You were greedily sucking his cock and refusing to let him go which made perfect sense, your cunt recognized that it was your mate fucking you and wanted him to remain buried in your womb to give you his seed.

Laying there with tears slipping from your eyes, the burn from the stretch was too much for you to handle but it was delicious when his tip pressed against your soft spot. Your nails were digging into the sheets, clawing at the material without a care in the world on whether it ripped or not, right now you were being fucked good by a god. The rutting of his hips against yours as his cock finally drove its full length into your heat and wiggling it to push it deeper made you see the universe. The Lady Varda’s creation was more visible than ever for the first time as he drove into you like a mad man. With every slap of his hips against yours, you lurched forward only for him to pull you back onto his cock.

“Running from me dove, you should know better than to run from your mate. You can't run from my cock, you're going to take all that I'm giving.” His fried bird brain was reading everything out of portion and believing that you couldn’t take his thrusts – it was far from that. His thrusts were rearranging your insides and turning them into jelly. You weren’t sure if your guts would be intact when he was through with you.

The pita-patter of his heavy balls slapping against your clit as his cock drove and nudged its way against your walls had your eyes crossing. The mewls and cries of his name as his pounding increased were all motivation, ensuring him that he was pleasuring his mate well and that you wanted to be bred. The sounds of the sheet tearing beneath your nails fell deaf on his ears as the only sounds he was concerned with was your cries and his cock slipping in and out of your slippery cunt. The beautiful ring of cream had already formed at the base of his cock, and he made the pleasurable mistake off looking down to where you were connected and noticed it.

The sight was heavenly, and it made his hips stutter and twitch before you felt the first delivery of his cum flooding your walls. The volume of cum he released along with the sheer size of his cock sent you into a frenzy and your body spasmed around his length, clit untouched, and climaxed. Your own release mixed with his and coated his cock in white and a glistening glaze while your cunt was coated in his cum that spewed from your hole as his cock continued to drive in and out your cunt. How was he still hard?

“E-Eonwe, y-you’re still hard…ahh.” Your words were cut off by the harsh slap of his hips, making you collapse onto the bed and plant your face in the mattress.

“We'll finish when I say we can finish, and you’re not leaving until you're carrying my child,” he growled into your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps.

Before you had a chance to respond to his obscenely filthy words, he gripped your neck and pushed it into the sheets as he laid his entire body on yours and resumed dicking you down. He was going to sloppy fuck you into the nest he made until you were both rolling around in your essences and sweat. His goal was to have you smelling like him to ward off any unnecessary males – you belonged to him.

Pounding away at your mushy walls, you felt the flex of his muscles in his thighs as his hips moved and heard the feral grunts in your ear as his lips hovered nearby. So close to the shell of your ear, his hot breath was scolding the tip of your ear as he rested his head atop yours. Nudging his nose into your head to sniff your natural aroma, his head rubbed against yours affectionately while marking you with his scent. The pants he’d release were harmonic and it prompted fresh flows of juices to flow which increased the indelicate squelching from his cock pumping into you. You couldn’t help but drop your head into one of the nearby pillows and bite into it as your moans increasing grew so that you were sure the entire vicinity was aware of what you and Eonwe were up to, however, Eonwe didn’t appreciate your actions.

Stopping his hips, you screamed into the pillow from where his cock nestled itself in your walls as he ceased his thrusting. His cock was heavy and pressed itself against your soft spot, grazing against it as his body moved to snatch the pillow and throw it on the other side of the bed. Instead of resuming his thrusts, his head dropped to push the hair on your back out the way so he could litter your skin in nibbles and kisses. It was the first time he was tasting your honeysuckle skin since the entire session, and he swore under his breath at his lack of attention and care. Your skin was delicious, far sweeter than the fresh nectar from flowers or honey from beehives. The crisp spring waters from heaven could not compare to the saccharine on your skin.

The sensation of his mouth on your skin was driving you insane and you couldn’t take it anymore. If only you were given some manual to warn you beforehand of all the substantial pleasure you were going to receive, you would have spent at least a week in preparation. You couldn’t even tell which round you were on given that he came quickly due to his urgent desire to breed and retained his hardness. Your lips were coated in a heavy residue of cum as it gushed from your hole as his hips regained their momentum.

“Eonwe, please don’t stop,” you squealed as his hand on your neck yanked your head upwards and arched it to meet his hungry glare. His lips came down to capture yours in a dirty, salacious kiss, swallowing your moans and lips in one go. Tongue pushed past your lip with ease as his hips pounded away, jolting your body forward. Your tongues battled against each other or more like Eonwe dominated your tongue easily and pried your mouth open to suck on the muscle. His other hand trailed to your grope your ass, squeezing the fatness and mapping out the exquisite flesh before bringing a hand down to slap it. Breaking the kiss to let you gasp for air from his incessant pounding and spanking, Eonwe kept your head tilted upwards and locked his eyes with your doe eyes – the little starry and distance look he observed swelled his pride as your mate, he was doing an excellent job.

“I’m not stopping anytime soon darling, not when your pussy feels so good. All mine. Gonna fuck you for hours, dove, till you fucking beg me to stop. Gonna fill you up till you give me a baby. Isn’t that so dove?” he breathed out.

“Uh-huh, yes, fuck a baby in me Eonwe, please. Please, fill me up, fill me fucking up.” You didn’t care how whiney you sounded at that point. All that mattered what that you were being fucked into oblivion by a god-like being, and you were being fuck to perfection. You’d whine all day in his ear if it meant being given what you desired, and it would seem that Eonwe’s heat was making your brain delirious because you’d never spout half of the filth that came tumbling out your mouth.

Flinging your free hands to grab the edge of the sofa as his hips placement became erratic and faster as another high was approaching him, his hands shifted off your body to grip your hands as he pounded you into the sheets. Your mouth was hanging open and chanting incomprehensible mumblings that made his movements increase. His mouth was still hovering above your head, and you were able to listen to every climatic sound he made, especially your name. He was chanting your name especially, and it made butterflies erupt in the pit of your stomach. Your name tumbled from his mouth like God’s nectar, heavenly and sinfully delightful.

“I know you’re close, I can feel you. Gonna cum all over my cock for me dove. Gonna let me stuff you up.” he groaned.

Whimpering like you were the one in heat, his name fell continuously from your lips like prayers as you felt the fire tumbling and coursing throughout your body as his poundings twitched and stuttered. His hips stilled and remaining balls deep inside your cunt, the moan angelic moan Eonwe released as his cum spilt past your walls and flooded your womb. Your eyes rolled back at the extra sensation and prompted you to tremble under his larger body, convulsing into the mattress as you felt his cock swell and widen your walls to form some sort of plug to prevent his cum from slipping out. The expanding of your muscles forced you to cry out in pain which gained Eonwe’s attention and moved him to provide comfort to his mate.

“Shh, I know, I know dove, it hurts and I’m sorry – but it’s to ensure my seed remains.” He spoke tenderly as he nuzzled his face against yours, brushing his lips along your jaw and littering kisses into the flesh with some nibbles to distract you from the still swelling of his cock. Proportionally to his swelling, you could still feel ropes of his cum being dispelled into your womb, giving your lower abdomen a chubby punch.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Eonwe…” you cried in distress.

He hated seeing you in pain because he knew that his swelling wasn’t going to reduce anytime soon, thus you were going to be uncomfortable for a long while. Releasing his hold on your hands, he wrapped them around your waist and rolled over so you could both lie on your sides comfortably. Keeping his hands on your waist firmly, he grounded his hips into yours, grinding his cock to assist with reducing the burning pain where his cock was swollen. It was the most he could do while stroking your hair and whispering sweet nothings into your ear to calm your erratic breathing. You were too distressed, and it was fretting him.

“It’ll go away soon, the pain would stop soon dove, it’s only short.” He attempted to soothe you and himself because it was the first time he laid with anyone, so he wasn’t exactly sure how his heat was to occur.

Tracing patterns into your skin, his fingers danced intricately along your arms and travelled to your lower abdomen where his cock and cum were nestled. Running his fingers lightly across the bulging skin, an ears-splitting grin could not help but stretch across his face at the volume of his seed lodged within your womb, the chances of you bearing his child were even higher. He knew that his heat was far from finished and if he were to keep up his heavy flow of release, he was for certain that you would conceive at the end. His excitement couldn't help but draw chirping from his throat as he revelled in the endless possibilities.

“What has you so happy?” you inquired.

Not wanting to reveal the fact unto you yet, Eonwe opted to hum and give a nonchalant reply, “Nothing really, just pleased that I’ve finally engaged with you after many years.” And he was not lying about that. It was no dream of his to mate with you for the five years you’ve been courting, and now that his dream became a reality, Eonwe wasn’t ready to wake up for it yet. He desired to have more and more until his body crumpled and gave out.

“I love you.” It was spoken by you both before Eonwe watched as you shifted within his arms to fall asleep – he was content.

Before the night was over, Eonwe had dragged the bed closer to the window so he could press your body against the glass and spread you open to his liking. With ease, he was able to lift you up and down his cock with your back against his chest and your thighs resting in the crook of his elbows. Lips attached to your skin and violating it in a series of violent purple bruised appeared most beautiful artwork on your skin in Eonwe’s eyes. The bulge your stomach held was impossible to miss from the incessant volume of cum Eonwe’s body was able to produce.

You had passed out from the back-to-back fucking as his heat came on hotter during the night and demanded him to go for hours. Unable to keep up, you had a blackout while he was still finishing up to find his release, only to awake to the feeling of a feathery touch dancing across your skin. It was Eonwe’s feathers encasing your body and his like a cocoon to protect you from the rest of the world – his form of protection during mating. You were now facing him head-on, guessing that he had turned you round after your most previous round if when you passed out was the previous round. His talons were curled away from your face as his knuckles stroked your cheek apologetically.

“I would seem that I have overdone it dove. Forgive me, I forgot that you couldn’t keep up.” he chuckled with tones of teasing underlying.

Blinking away the sleep and still hazy, the most you were able to mumble before returning to dreamland was, “It’s okay, it’s okay, I’m glad that I was able to help.”

Feeling touched by your sentimental words, all Eonwe could do was hope that you won’t go running when you learned that today was just day one of sedating his heat and that he had six more days to go…of breeding you to perfection.

Masterlist

Taglist: @spidergirla5 @eunoiaastralwings @someoneinthestars @lilmelily @aconstructofamind @mysticmoomin @edensrose

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